GIFT  OF 


oP 


A  Play  in  Five  Acts 


AARLOWE 


COPYRIGHT  1902 

BY 
HARRY  M.  GOLDBERG. 

ALL  RIGHTS  RKSERVED. 


... 


Press  of  WALTER  N.  BRUNT,  537  Clay  St. 
SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL.,  U.  S.  A. 


3535 


M/I/ 


, 
N 


ROLAND. 


"Oh,  how  I  have  prayed  that  I  might  be  that  man  who 
could  make  the  world  like  unto  a  single  nation." 

Act  5,  Scene  i. 


329411 


Respectfully 
Dedicated 

to 
Mr.  J.  Goldberg 

of 

San  Francisco 

As  a  Token  of  Esteem 

By  the  Author. 


THE  PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY. 

MEN. 

ROLAND  OF  ROLANDSECK. 
DIETRICK  OF  DRACHENFELS. 
MORDECAI. 
ALONSO. 
DAVID. 
CURIO. 

COUNT  FALKENSTEIN. 
BARON  WALDEMAR. 
BARON  HOFFMANN. 
JOHN  (A  Peasant). 
OLD  MAN. 

HERALD. 

WOMEN. 

HlLDEGUNDE. 

BEATRICE. 

ELS  A. 

ANNIE  (A  Peasant  Woman). 

AND 

Gypsies;  Duelists;  Peasants  and  Villagers  of  Honnef; 
Servants;  Soldiers  of  Roland,  Dietrick,  and  Falkenstein ; 
Barons ;  Dancing  Girls ;  etc. 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  SCENES. 
ACT  I. 

Garden  of  Castle  Drachenfels. 
Night. 

ACT  II. 

On  the  Banks  of  the  Rhine  near  Rolandseck. 
Early  morning  of  the  next  day. 

ACT  III. 

The  Apartments  of  Hildegunde  at  Castle  Drachenfels. 
Forenoon. 

ACT  IV. 

On  the  Banks  of  the  Rhine  near  Rolandseck. 
Noon. 

ACT  V. 

SCENE  1.     Public  Square  at  Honnef. 

Late  Afternoon. 
SCENE  2.     Great  Hall  at  Castle  Drachenfels. 

Night. 

TIME  :     Latter  part  of  Sixteenth  Century. 


THE    FIRST   ACT 
II 


ACT  I. 

Garden  of  Castle  Drachenfels.  It  is  a  mellow  moonlight 
night.  The  upper  part  of  the  stage  is  bounded  by  a  wall 
overgrown  with  ivy.  In  the  center  of  this  wall  is  the  main 
entrance.  On  the  right  hand  is  the  entrance  leading  into 
the  Castle,  the  door  of  ivhich  is  studded  with  antique  iron 
knobs.  On  the  door  hangs  a  massive  iron  knocker.  Above 
the  door  Jiangs  a  finely-wrought  black  iron  lamp.  Down 
the  stage  [left]  a  carved  marble  bench,  as  used  in  the  days 
of  Homer,  and  so  often  seen  in  the  pictures  of  Sir  Alma 
Tadema.  Facing  this  bench  [D.  C.~\  a  seat  of  like  design, 
for  one  person. 

Hildegunde  is  silting  on  the  bench  [D.  L.]  with  her  head 
in  her  hands,  deeply  engrossed  with  her  own  thoughts. 
Beatrice  leans  over  the  back  of  the  bench,  sympathetically. 
Just  before  the  curtain  has  risen  she  has  been  twining  red 
roses  into  garlands — many  of  the  roses  have  slipped  from 
her  listless  fingers,  and  cover  the  bench  and  surrounding 
space.  Both  women  are  dressed  in  white  flowing  robes. 

David  faces  them  in  the  attitude  of  performing. 

[David  is  an  old  minstrel,  blind,  and  about  70  years 
old] 

Soft  strains  of  harp  music  from  behind  the  scenes,  while 
the  curtain  is  still  down. 

The  theater  is  dimly  lighted,  so  as  to  blot  out  all  impres 
sions  of  the  commonplaces  of  every-day  life;  so  as  to  set  the 
imagination  in  touch  with  the  play. 

David  is  improvising  upon  the  harp.  The  effect  the 
music  is  intended  to  produce  is — inspiration :  that  of  a  soul 
struggling  to  paint  what  it  feels  in  the  highest  moment  of 
its  passion. 


12  ROLAfiD    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  deep  feeling']  [8he  looks  into  vacancy  and  sits 
in  troubled  silence]  Is  life  LIFE?  How  is  it  that  we  cling 
to  it  ? — What  do  we  fear  ?  Why  this  longing  after  immor 
tality  ? — and — why  the  hope  ?  Aye  ! — the  hope  ?  May  it 
only  be  answered ! 

BEATRICE. 

[Touching  her  slightly  on  the  shoulder  with  the  pur 
pose  of  arousing  her  out  of  her  dreamy  reverie.]  Hilde- 
gunde.  [Hildegunde  starts.]  Hilde — gunde? — 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Yes?— 

BEATRICE. 

[Very  softly]  You  say  much — very  much  of  life — BUT, 
[she  lingers  on  the  word]  were  it  only  as  beautiful — as 
beautiful  as  love ;  how  GRAND  it  would  be ! 

[Hildegunde  is  affected  ~by  Beatrice's  enthusiasm,  they 
loth  look  at  each  other  and  laugh  softly  with  womanly  sym 
pathy.  Then  Beatrice  speaks  to  Hildegunde  teasingly, 
with  a  touch  of  coquetry .] 

Do  you  know — 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Slightly  embarrassed]     Yes?—     What?— 

BEATRICE. 

[With  mystery]     Do  you  know  what  love  is? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Very  simply  and  with  feeling]     YES. 

BEATRICE. 

What  is  it  like  ? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  simple  passion]  It  is  like  the  grandest  music  from 
the  grandest  organ  !  God  is  the  musician ;  our  hearts  the 
keys. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  13 

BEATRICE. 

Cousin,  you  are  very  wise,  but  even  with,  all  your  wis 
dom  you  play  at  the  game  of  LOVE. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[As  if  speaking  to  herself]  I  do — and  I  hold  good  cards. 

BEATRICE. 

[Continuing — as  if  not  interrupted]  You  sigh,  and 
when  you're  not  sighing,  you're  frowning.  [She  laughs 
lightly  and  resumes  in  a  bantering  tone.] 

[In  a  jesting  manner]  Nightly,  as  the  stars  peep  out  of 
the  windows  of  the  sky,  I  whisper  my  secret  thoughts  to 
Heaven.  [She  laughs  prettily  and  seeing  that  Hildegunde 
has  again  fallen  into  a  reverie  as  before,  she  checks  herself, 
her  mood  changing  to  regret,  and  then,  to  sympathy.  She 
goes  to  where  Hildegunde  is  sitting  and  sits  down  quietly, 
and  takes  her  cousin's  hand  very  gently  in  hers.]  Dear — 
you're  in  love.  Tell  me.  Let  ME  rejoice  with  you.  [Strokes 
her  cousins  hand]  Come, — do  tell — DO  ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Why  should  I  ?     [Quizzically] 

BEATRICE. 

Because  it  will  make  you  feel  BETTER.  It  will  be  such 
sweet  pain  and  sad  pleasure —  Its  inhuming  fires  will 
burn  again,  and — 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Looks  at  her  in  a  questioning  manner]     And — 

BEATRICE. 

[Pleadingly  and  'humorously'}     I  DO  so  want  to  know! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Very  simply']  I  wandered  one  day  into  the  forest.  It 
was  towards  evening — I  was  thinking  of  Life — I  found 
love.  It  is  the  only  Life — the  life  of  the  soul.  [Leaning  for 
ward  and  clasping  her  kneel  Ah! — beautiful,  beaut — iful 
l_o_v_e  f 


14  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

DAVID. 

[The  voice  of  Hildegunde  has  thrilled  him  and  his  fin 
gers  have  been  wandering  unconsciously  over  the  strings 
of  the  harp.]  [He  plays  a  few  bars  of  music,  with  sweet 
ness,  yet  melancholy.]  [He  swigs.] 

If  love  is  pain,  'tis  a  sweet  sad  pain ; 

Life  were  nought  without  it. 
Then  were  all  things,  stupid  and  vain; 

A  hell  were  earth  to  doubt  it. 

I  met  thee  once  in  the  virgin  glow; 

My  love — my  heart — my  rose! 
I  spoke  of  love,  sweetly,  soft  and  low; 

Care's  volume  closed ! 

Care's  volume  closed  ! — 

[Toivards  the  close  of  this  song  the  stage  becomes  a  tri 
fle  darker.  It  lias  thrown  all  the  characters  into  a  medi 
tative  mood.  After  the  music  there  is  a  pause.  Beatrice 
crosses  to  the  door  of  the  castle — picking  up,  as  she  does  so, 
a  few  roses,  which  she  places  gracefully  in  the  ivy  that  is 
entwined  around  the  pillars  of  the  doorway.  She  hums  to 
herself  a  pretty  and  romantic  air — some  Italian  ditty 
Hildegunde  takes  up  a  book,  the  leaves  of  which  she  turns 
listelcssly.  A  bell  tolls  in  the  distance,  the  sound  of  which 
comes  from  the  village  of  Plonnef.  It  rings  nine  times.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Softly]     Nine  o'clock.     [Sighs.] 

BEATRICE. 

[Beatrice  goes  up  center  to  main  entrance.  She  leans 
her  arm  on  a  pillar  and  rests  her  hand  on  the  top  of  her 
head.  Right  hand  on  hip — striking  a  pose. 

[When  in  pose]    Yes. 

[After  a  brief  pause] — Ah! — what  a  lovely  night!  The 
very  air  is  laden  with  romance ! 

[Moves  languidly  to  Hildegunde' s  side]  [D.  L.]  [Looks 
into  her  face  and  says]  How  happy  would  I  be,  if  I  were 
only  in  love  on  a  night  like  this ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  15 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Laughs  softly  to  herself]  Aren't  you  ashamed  of  your 
self,  you  silly  girl?  [Touching  her  lightly  on  the  cheek  ] 

BEATRICE. 

Should  I  be  ashamed  because  I  want  to  be  in  love? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

No,  not  that,  but  keep  it  to  yourself. 

BEATRICE. 

I  see. — You  were  telling  me  something  about  what  hap 
pened  in  the  forest — let  me  see — what  was  it  ? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I  said  I  found — 

BEATRICE. 

[With  rapture]     Love. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Yes,  I  found  it  in  the  forest — How  well  I  remember — It 
was  growing  dark.  The  moon  like  a  fiery  ruby,  lit  the 
lurid  shadows  of  high  heaven  with  the  clearest  glow! 
[Beatrice  here  interrupts.] 

BEATRICE. 

Yes — yes — - 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Continuing']  Nature's  song  of  rest  lulled  the  tired  day 
to  sleep.  Nothing  stirred.  'Twas  calm  in  the  palace  of 
God.  What  a  wonderful  creation  the  world  is !  How 
quiet  and  solemn  it  was!  What  infinite  peace!  What 
restful  silence !  Oh,  God  is  sublime,  sub — lime  ! 

All  of  a  sudden  there  seemed  to  be  a  sound,  not  of  the 
forest's  making.  It  grew  in  volume, — no  doubt  some  soli 
tary  horseman  had  lost  his  way  in  the  wood.  I  was  not 
afraid,  although  my  heart  beat  fast.  In  another  moment 
my  doubts  were  confirmed,  for  before  me  HE  stood.  I 
loved  him  ere  he  uttered  a  word.  He  asked  me  the  way — I 
told  him.  He  thanked  me,  and  made  a  move  as  if  to  go, 


16  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

although  I  felt  sure  he  wanted  to  stay.  Something  prompt 
ed  me  to  ask  his  name — I  told  him  mine.  He  answered — 
"Mine  is  an  ugly  one/5  Modesty  alone  prevented  my  say 
ing  that  if  he  -spoke  it,  it  would  sound  like  the  music  of  a 
lute.  Much  as  I  longed  to,  I  could  not  bid  him,  a  stranger, 
stay,  and  he  on  his  part  could  not  offer  to  do  so  unasked. 
We  were  at  a  loss  for  words. 

I  sighed  and  turned  away.  He  broke  the  silence  by  say 
ing — "Do  you  know  these  woods  well?"  I  answered — 
"Yes,  I  know  and  love  them."  You  should  have  seen  the 
light  in  his  eyes  as  he  said — "I,  too,  love  them/' 

\WitJi  animation]  I  could  have  kissed  those  eyes!  [A 
brief  pause.} 

He  went  away — every  day  since  we  have  met  in  the  same 
place.  God  overhead  and  love  within.  [Slow  music.] 

BEATRICE. 

[Slowly]     What  is  his  name? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  a  tinge  of  regret]  I  do  not  know;  that  is  the  one- 
thing  he  has  never  shown  any  disposition  to  confide  to  me. 
I  think  he  is  one  of  those  men  who  lay  violent  hands  on  the 
riches  of  others. 

BEATRICE. 

Be  assured  that  he  is,  Did  he  not  steal  your  heart,  and 
is  it  not  your  father's  right  to  choose  for  you  a  husband  ? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

No.  It  is  my  right,  and  every  heart,  if  I  had  a  thousand 
hearts,  to  him  would  I  give  them  all. 

DAVID. 

[He  has  listened  to  the  conversation.  It  has  aroused 
within  him  thoughts  that  are  always  present  in  his  mind.] 

[NOTE. — David  has  always  loved  his  Art  and  his  blind 
ness  has  even  strengthened  that  love.  The  one  great  sor 
row  of  his  life  has  been  the  loss  of  his  only  son.  People 
like  himself  are  positive  in  their  opinions;  they  even  verge 
towards  egotism  in  their  sorrows,  thinking  that  everything 
they  have  felt  or  suffered  has  been  in  the  highest  degree.] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  17 

DAVID. 

[In  a  natural  tone'}  [Dreaming]  It  was  evening.  The 
bells  tolled  and  kissed  with  a  plaintive  sigh  the  silence  of 
the  coming  night.  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  men  were  not. 
No  passions,  no  hates,  no  desires.  Peace  reigned  supreme. 
As  if  the  world  were  a  closed  book  wherein  all  thoughts 
were  at  rest. 

[With  deep  feeling]  Life — where  is  thy  pain?  It  is, 
to  live.  We  are  put  on  earth  to  suffer. 

[Slow  music]  All  is  an  endless  night  with  me.  The 
day  of  death  is  very  near.  I  seem  to  see  into  the  soul  of 
the  Master,  as  my  spirit  travels  on  the  music  that  swells 
my  heart.  That  heart,  too,  beats  like  a  tired  stag  when  its 
race  for  life  is  run.  These  stately  trees — they  wear 
branches; — like  them,  I,  too,  was  proudly  blest.  My  son 
was  in  the  summer  of  his  life.  One  day  he  was  out  row 
ing  on  the  Rhine  with  the  girl  who  was  shortly  to  become 
his  wife.  A  storm  came  up, — their  boat  was  driven  on  the 
rocks.  She  was  drowned.  They  picked  him  up  later.  He 
had  lost  his  reason. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I  pity  you,  David,  indeed  I  pity  you ! 
DAVID. 

It  is  I  who  pity  you,  not  you  who  should  pity  me.  I  told 
you  the  story  of  my  son  so  as  to  warn  you.  You  have  al 
ways  been  happy  until  now — try  and  be  content  with  what 
you  have.  Do  not  seek  further.  A  quiet  life  amid  pleas 
ant  surroundings  is  sufficient  for  a  happy  life.  I've  travel 
ed,  not  as  others  travel,  with  listless  eye  and  look  of  dull 
content,  and  what  I've  seen  I've  ne'er  forgot. 

Once  when  I  was  in  England  I  heard  some  one  sing 
a  simple  ballad,  so  like  my  own  sorrow  that  I've  often  sung 
it  when  alone.  Maybe  you  would  like  to  hear  it? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I  would  very  much  like  to. 

DAVID. 
[Plays  the  introduction.] 


18  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

And  no  we  alas !  for  thy  sad  losse, 

I'll  ever  more  weep  and  sigh; 
For  thee  I  only  wisht  to  live, 

For  thee  I  wish  to  dye." 

[lie  finishes  the  music  for  the  first  verse.  A  soldier  en 
ters  and  announces.'] 

SOLDIER. 

There  is  a  man  outside  who  begs  to  be  admitted. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Bid  him  enter.  [Exit  soldier. ] 

[Beatrice  crosses  to  right  and  stands  in  the  doorway  of 
the  Castle.  David  in  original  position,  center.  Hilde- 
gunde  crosses  to  left,  sits  on  bench  as  before.'] 

BEATRICE. 

I  am  so  happy  tonight.  I  don't  know  why  it  is,  but  I 
am. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I,  too,  but  I  know  why.  I  am  thinking  of  HIM.  If  I 
could  look  into  his  eyes,  feel  his  breath  upon  my  cheeks,  be 
pressed  to  his  strong  heart — what  would  I  not  give,  ah, 
what  would  I  not  give ! 

[Roland  enters  through  center  door  unnoticed.]  [Over 
his  own  costume  he  wears  the  gown  of  a  pilgrim.  The 
hood  of  the  gown  is  drawn  over  his  head.]  [He  sees  Hilde- 
gunde  and  stands  slightly  embarrassed.'] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[She  continues  with  deep  feeling,  as  if  speaking  to  her 
self]  I  love  him  so  ! 

[David  is  thinking.  His  mind*  is  just  where  it  left  off 
when  the  soldier  entered  to  announce  the  arrival  of  the 
stranger.  David  has  taken  no  part  in  the  conversation 
since  finishing  his  song.  Beatrice  still  in  the  doorway, 
picking  a  rose  to  pieces.] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  19 

ROLAND. 

[Steps  forward  a  few  paces']     Pardon,  do  I  intrude? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Rising]     You  are  welcome. 

ROLAND. 

Thanks. 

BEATRICE. 

[To  Hildegunde]     May  we  continue  with  the  song? 

ROLAND. 

Indeed,  I  am  very  sorry  for  having  interrupted  it.  As  I 
neared  the  castle  I  heard  the  music.  It  was  charming.  I 
thought  to  myself  as  I  walked  along,  what  wonders  there 
are  in  music !  It  is  a  cordial  of  comfort. 

[To  nildegundet]  With  your  permission,  we  will  listen 
to  the  rest  of  the  song. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[To  David}     Will  you  kindly  continue? 

DAVID. 
[A  pause,  few  chords  of  music  and  David  sings.'] 

"And  will  he  ne'er  come  again  ? 

Will  he  ne'er  come  again?  [This  a  trifle  sadder"] 

No,  he  is  dead  and  laid  in  his  grave, 

Forever  to  remain." 

[His  voice  is  choked  ivith  emotion — his  listeners  are  vis 
ibly  affected.] 

"His  cheek  was  redder  than  the  rose; 

The  comliest  youth  was  he  ! — 

But  he  is  dead  and  laid  in  his  grave, 

Alas  and  woe  is  me !"     [Buries  his  head  in  his 

hand.     Short  silence.     The  other  characters  hold  the  pause 

out  of  sympathy.] 

[Hildegunde  crosses  to  him,  under  the  influence  of  the 
present  emotion  and  says  softly,  laying  her  hand  on  David's 
shoulder']  : 


20  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Da— vid  ? 

DAVID. 

[Slowly  gains  control  of  himself  and  looks  her  in  the 
face]  [With  a  fatherly  tone]  God  bless  you,  God  bless 
you !  I  only  hope  you  will  never  know  what  it  is  to  suffer 
for  those  you  love. 

[Hildegunde  kisses  him  on  the  forehead  gently.'] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Thanks. 

[Hildegunde  moves  slowly  away  from  David  and  faces 
up-stage.  As  Hildegunde  is  turning  away  from  David, 
Beatrice  moves  toward  David,  and  speaks  as  follows]  : 

BEATRICE. 

Come,  let  us  go  inside.  Let  the  past  bury  the  past,  live 
in  the  present. 

DAVID. 

[Rising  slowly  with  Beatrice's  aid]  The  past  is  all  I 
have,  child.  I  MUST  remember  it — it  is  all  I  have. 

[Exit  both  Beatrice  and  David.     Slow  music.] 

[While  Beatrice  is  speaking,  ROLAND  lias  taken  his 
place  down  right  near  the  upper  pillar  of  the  doorway  which 
leads  into  the  Castle.  Hildegunde  and  Roland  are  both 
in  touch  with  the  scene.  Hildegunde  moves  down  left  to 
bench.  She  fingers  the  roses  and  turns  the  leaves  of  a  book 
absent-mindedly.  Roland  with  his  eyes  follows  the  retreat 
ing  figures.  There  is  an  unspoken  sympathy  between  the 
two  characters.  He,  of  course,  knows  from  whence  it 
comes,  she  does  not,  except  that  she  has  heard  his  voice 
before,  but  cannot  exactly  place  where.'] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Meditatively]  Such  is  the  memory  of  youth  when  the 
hair  is  silvered  and  the  knee  is  bent  with  Time ! 

ROLAND. 

If  that  is  the  case  may  I  never  reach  its  ripeness ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  21 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Age  is  like  a  rich  stone !  It  all  depends  upon  the  cut 
ting  and  how  the  stone  is  set,  A  provident  youth  makes 
old  age  a  triumph. 

ROLAND. 

In  boyhood's  happy  state  it  is  what  we  are  to  be;  great 
stores  of  gems,  dazzling  magnificence  of  earthly  potentates, 
unlimited  wealth,  power,  fame  and  glory  !  Boyhood's  dream 
is  a  great  one.  It's  the  dream  of  coming  greatness. 

[He  pauses  a  moment  to  think,  because  the  next  is  HIS 
dream.']  After  the  boy,  comes  the  man;  he  ponders  deeply 
what  he  has,  and  what  he  has  not.  This  is  a  dream  of 
doubt.  There  are  no  more  the  joyous  footsteps,  treading 
on  the  fancied  air — all  that  remains  is — doubt. 

[A  slight  pause.  Harp  music  from  within  the  Castle. 
Music  of  David's  song.  Roland  says  the  next  words  facing 
that  direction]  Then  comes, — the  last  dream.  Age, — old, 
wint'ry  age;  living  on  sweet  recollection;  the  dreams 
and  follies  of  youth ;  the  sole  remaining  enemy  of  childish 
chatter.  Death's  a  friend.  It  is  the  age  of  ruins — dreams 
what  might  have  been ! 

[A  slight  pause.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Is  it  not  the  fear  of  Death  that  makes  life  sweet?. . . . 

ROLAND. 

[Sits  on  bench]  It  is.  All  life's  a  picture.  If  you 
were  to  take  the  picture  away,  what  would  be  left  ?  Noth 
ing.  Everything  is  made  beautiful  to  us  through  the  chan 
nels  of  thought.  The  beauty  of  God  lies  in  the  thought  of 
God.  Now,  for  example, — I  suppose  you  take  me  for  a 
pious  man  ?  If  you  do,  you're  wrong ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I  think  I  have  heard  your  voice  before. 

ROLAND. 

[TWtf/i  a  tinge  of  unctuous  humor]  Madam,  this  man 
tle  covers  a  multitude  of  sins ! 


22  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

Believe  me,  everything  seems  what  it  is  not — 

Religion  has  its  symbols — 

Nations,  their  flags — 

Love,  its  tokens — 

They  ALL  picture  an  emotion. 

The  lover,  in  a  far-off  land  burns  with  passion,  rains 
kisses  upon  the  picture  of  the  one  he  loves  best — 

The  inquisitor  perpetrates  cruel  deeds,  and  prays  to  the 
cross  to  make  him  strong  and  firm — 

A  colored  piece  of  bunting,  with  no  intrinsic  value,  when 
unfurled  in  the  midst  of  a  band  of  warriors,  inspires  them 
to  risk  their  lives  for  love  of  country — 

That  piece  of  bunting  represents  a  thought — 

That  cross,  a  master — 

That  lover's  picture  of  his  love, — an  ideal — 

We  are  all  more  or  less  insane — the  world  wants  a  name. 
— its  people  want  to  imagine  things — they  like  to  believe 
that  THEY  are  the  ones  to  move  the  world. 

What  is  man,  when  he's  balanced  on  the  scale  of  reason  ? 

Nothing  but  an  earth-worm, — a  seeker  after  pleasure, 
immersed  in  self-love, — by  turns  a  God,  a  devil,  and — A 
MAN —  A  creature  ruled  by  passion — half  God — half  I 
don't  know  what, — who  acts  his  wretched  part  until  the 
life  comedy  comes  to  an  end. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Listening  attentively]     Tell  me  your  name. 

ROLAND. 

My  name  is  Roland. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Are  you  he,  who  lives  in  the  Castle  of  Rolandseck  ? 

ROLAND. 

I  AM  Roland,  of  Rolandseck.  I  left  my  father's  house 
when  quite  young.  I  went  abroad  to  see  the  world.  They 
called  me  back.  My  father  had  died.  I  have  tasted  of  all 
that  goes  to  make  life  sweet —  I  care  not  for  wealth,  rank, 
nor  do  I  worry  much  about  fame !  That  I  was  born,  I  re 
gret  !  But  I  live,  and  will  continue  to  live,  until  my  name 


ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK.  23 

is  called  by  the  Sargeant  of  the  Regiment  of  Death.  Madam, 
I  speak  to  a  purpose — men  fear  me  because  what  I  say  is 
law.  They  call  me  a  robber-knight; — in  plain  terms  un 
alloyed  by  romance — a  common  thief !  I  came  here  to  rob 
a  woman  of  her  heart,,  and  here  I  stand  confessed !  Really, 
Fm  not  often  so  heroic,  so  deal  kindly  with  me ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Playfully,  yet  with  a  hidden  meaning']  But  if  she 
should  give  you  that  heart,  nay,  even  more,  suppose  she 
has  given  it  to  you  already,  would  you  not  be  ashamed  and 
repent  of  your  misdeeds  ? 

ROLAND. 

When  I  finish  my  tale  you  can  the  better  judge.  I  have 
told  you  that  I  am  of  noble  parentage;  should  a  man  in 
whose  veins  flows  the  blood  of  kings  turn  merchant  and 
barter  for  petty  gains;  or  should  he  become  a  courtier  and 
kiss  the  ground  before  some  fat,  over-fed  monarch,  or 
should  he  turn  actor,  and,  with  a  tragic  smile  and  air  of 
bombast,  say — I  am  7;  else  should  he  become  a  second 
Barabas  to  trade  in  stones  of  value  and  finger  daily  the 
sweaty  coin  bled  from  wretched  souls  and  cramm  it  into  his 
over-crowded  coffers? 

[fie  changes  his  tone  and  draws  himself  up  proudly] 
Bah !  say  I.  I'll  hold  my  head  erect,  and  this,  MY  SWORD. 
shall  serve  its  master. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Amused.  With  a  sly  smile}  But  isn't  this  a  strange 
code? 

ROLAND. 

[Takes  his  place  in  the  center  of  the  stage]  One  mo 
ment,  you  must  listen  until  I  have  finished.  I  will  explain 
to  you  in  detail  my  very  peculiar  theory.  I'll  set  myself 
right  in  your  eyes.  I  bow,  thusly  [suits  action  to  words'] 
I  stand  here — I  draw  my  sword — a  man  stands  there 
[points  with  sword  about  two  paces  down  center]  to  that 
man  I  bow — I  bow  a  grand,  grand  bow;  thus — [suits  ac 
tion  to  words']  I  open  my  mouth ;  I  speak — "Sir,  you  have 
much  gold,  let  us  share  your  gold  like  brother  shares  with 


24  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

brother.  Do  you  want  to  live  in  luxury  and  do  you  want 
me  to  crave  a  bone  ?  No,  you  can't  be  as  mean  as  all  that. 
And  what's  more,  I  think  I  won't  let  you.  [Gives  a  very 
grand  smile]  [Still  addressing  imaginary  person] — My 
tastes  are  just  as  rich  as  yours,  I  dare  say  even  richer.  I 
adore  poetry — I  admire  art — and  above  all — I  love  women. 
One  can't  have  all  these  adorations,  likes  and  loves  and  be 
happy  without  satisfying  them;  so  you  see,  my  dear,  ad 
mired  friend,  I  must,  aye,  I  MUST  have  what  they  call 
money;  therefore  I'm  under  the  necessity  of  asking  you 
for  a  trifle.  I  shall  call  it  a  sum  loaned  to  myself;  I  as 
sure  you  that  I'll  pay  you,  in  the  other  world  [points  to 
Heaven'].  I  know  it's  far  away,  but  I  promise  you  upon 
the  honor  of  a  gentleman,  the  pay  is  certain.  No?  You 
refuse,  you  refuse  to  lend  me  money  ?  Well,  you'll  have  to, 
that's  all.  [Advances]  [Smiles  blandly  and  bows]. 
Thanks,  thanks,  my  friend,  a  thousand  thanks.  [Puts  out 
his  hand  to  receive  money  and  bestotvs  it  about  his  person.] 
Indeed,  my  friend,  you're  very  kind.  You  did  it,  let  me 
assure  you,  with  such  grace,  such  elegance1 — you  really 
charmed  me !  "Au  plaisir"  a-s  they  have  it  in  France.  I'll 
pay  you,  what  I  owe  you,  when  I  meet  you  among  the 
angels."  [Bows  gravely.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Hardly  able  to  contain  her  amusement']  But  your  con 
science — 

ROLAND. 

I  expected  }rour  question,  and  have  a  ready  answer,  but 
first  promise  me  that  if  I  answer  it,  you  will  be  satisfied. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  humor]     I  promise. 

ROLAND. 

It  is  the  story  of  Alexander  the  Great  and  the  Robber.  If 
you  have  already  heard  it  I  crave  your  indulgence.  "Dion- 
ides  was  brought  before  Alexander.  Alexander  said — 
'Vile  Brigand !  how  dare  you  infest  the  seas  with  your  mis 
deeds?'  'And  YOU,'  said  the  pirate,  'by  what  right  do  YOU 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  25 

ravage  the  world?  Because  I  have  only  one  ship  I  am 
called  a  Brigand;  but  YOU,  who  have  a  whole  fleet,  are 
termed  a  conqueror.' 

[He  gives  a  sly  look  towards  Hildegunde — with  a  know 
ing  air]  Have  1  satisfied  you  ? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Laughing  and  much  pleased']  Yes,  and  what's  more,  I 
think  it's  quite — 

ROLAND. 

[Looks  at  her  ardently]     Q — u — i — t — e? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Looks  at  him  with  a  laugh  and  toss  of  her  head]  Just 
qu — ite.  [To  be  said  as  she  is  crossing  in  front  of  him  in 
order  to  enter  the  doorway  of  the  Castle']  [When  she  has 
reached  the  doorway,  and  is  under  the  light,  she  pauses, 
and  wraps  her  shawl  around  her  shoulders,  pretending  as 
if  it  were  chilly.  She  comes  forward  again  a  few  paces. 
Roland  has  shown  signs  of  embarrassment.'] 

I'm  afraid  I  must  leave  you  now.  It  is  quite  chilly 
out  here,  and  besides  I  must  call  my  father.  [She  moves 
away  with  reluctance]  [Slow  music.  Picture.] 

ROLAND. 

[In  a  pleading  tone]  "Stay,  fair  lady,  turn  again,  and 
dry  those  pearly  tears;  for  see  beneath  this  gown  of  gray, 
thy  own  true  love  appears !" 

[Removes  gown.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  a  rippling  laugh,  brimming  over  with  playfulness 
— she  comes  to  the  center  of  the  stage  and  shaking  her  fin 
ger  in  Roland's  face,  says — ]  Oh,  you  impostor!  How 
dare  you  ! —  I  knew  it  was  you  all  along — [She  laughs] 
[There  is  a  slight  pause — her  laughter  dies  out.  Roland 
is  gazing  at  her  with  tender  and  passionate  earnestness. 
They  stand  thus  for  a  short  space  of  time,  in  mute  admira 
tion.] 

Bo — land.  [Lovingly]  [Drawn  to  his  arms  by  the  mag 
netism  of  mutual  affection — looks  into  his  face  and  re 
peats — ]  Ro — land !  It's  a  pretty  name ! 


26  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

ROLAND. 

[He  places  his  hands  upon  her  shoulders,  gazes  into  her 
eyes  with  subdued  passion.  They  hold  the  position — slow 
music — light  effects — Hildegunde  drops  her  eyes}  Love's 
lantern  lights  thy  brilliant  eyes.  Eyes  fuller  and  softer 
than  the  stars  of  Heaven.  We  meet  in  the  month  of  June. 
Thou,  like  a  rose-bud,  and,  I  like  its  stem.  Nay,  not  like  a 
rose-bud,  for  that  fades  and  dies — then  the  stem  is  wid 
owed.  Be  the  earth  that  nourishes  and  feeds  the  stem, 
bearing  it  the  fruit  of  wedlock.  Rich  shall  be  the  dower  of 
our  union — undying  love ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Lo — ve  !     Lo — ve  ! 

[Her  mood  changes']  It  was  all  so  dark  till  I  met  you. 
Now,  how  different  everything  is !  [Her  face  close  to  his} 
Yes !  it  was  dark,  now,  now,  Fve  found,  I've  found  a  light  to 
guide  me !  Seal  you  my  lips  with  a  gentle  kiss.  Tell  me, 
tell  me,  my  love,  HOW — MUCH — you — LOVE  ME  ! 

ROLAND. 

My  lips  will  speak  my  love.     [Kisses  her.} 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Looking  passionately  into  his  face  with  a  hungry  long 
ing  look.  She  hangs  in  transport  about  his  neck}  The 
seal  is  sundered  !  Seal  it  once  again !  The  more  you  kiss 
me,  the  more  my  very  heart  rises  to  my  lips. 
Ten  thousand  with  all  their  quantity  of  love  could  not  love 
you  half  so  much  as  I  do !  I  want  to  think  your  thoughts 
— I  want  to  breathe  your  breath — I  want  to  be  a  part  of 
you — THEN  ONLY  will  I  be  happy. 

ROLAND. 

You  shall  be ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Almost  beside  herself  ivith  happiness}  Oh,  that  this 
hour  would  never  end !  Just — just  one  more  kiss.  'Tis 
panacea  for  every  pain,  thy  arms  my  waist  entwining. 

[Roland  presses  her  closely  to  his  breast.} 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  27 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Looking  around  anxiously]  Roland,  you  must  go — 
there's  danger  here. 

ROLAND. 

[With  no  attempt  to  release  her]  'Tis  here  then,  in 
thine  arms. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Puts  her  hand  to  his  chest  and  gradually  releases  her 
self]  What  if  my  father  should  find  us  here? 

ROLAND. 

You're  right,  I  never  thought  of  that.  [Stepping  back  a 
little] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Pleadingly]     Go,  I  beg  of  you  to  go. 

ROLAND. 

[Pleadingly]     Must  I?— 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Feverishly]  Yes,  yes,  you  must  go — you  can't  stay 
here — you  don't  know  how  angry  my  father  would  be.  Go ; 
please !  [Roland  bows  his  consent  and  makes  as  if  to  go.] 

[Bewitchingly]     Now !   Ro — land  ! 

[Roland  takes  her  hand,  bou-s  over  it,  kisses  it  gallantly, 
and  then  looks  into  her  face.] 

[Hildegunde,  looking  proudly  at  him — takes  a  rose  from 
her  bosom,  and  hands  it  to  him.] 

ROLAND. 

[Accepts  rose  and  raises  it  to  his  lips.]  A  rose  is  for 
love.  [Goes  slowly  and  picks  up  gown  where  it  lias  fallen. 
Crosses  to  the  left-hand  side  of  the  stage.  Hildegunde  is 
on  the  right.] 

SENTRY. 

[From  without]  All's  well !  All's  well !  [The  cry  is 
taken  up  and  echoed  through  the  mountains.] 


28  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

ROLAND. 

Let  us  hope  all  WILL  BE  well.  [Goes  up  to  her  and  speaks 
with  fervor}  Let  us  place  our  trust  in  God !  [Slow 
music.} 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Starts  in  alarm']     Hush — I  hear  my  father  coming ! 
[Roland  quickly  puts  on  his  gown.] 
Quick ! 

DIETRICK. 

[From  within  Castle — off  right]  Lights,  I  say — 
lights ! 

[Plildegunde  crosses  down  left.  Roland  retires  up  cen 
ter.  Enter  two  servants  holding  lights.  They  stand  each 
by  opposite  pillars  of  the  doorway.  Enter  Dietrich.  He 
stands  in  the  doorway.  Hildegrunde  crosses  to  him.~\ 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Ah,  father !     Are  you  coming  into  the  garden  ? 

DIETRICK. 

Yes,  child, — I  want  to  speak  with  you.  [He  notes,  for 
the  first  time,  the  presence  of  Roland.] 

[Addressing  Hildegunde]  I  see  you  have  a  stranger 
with  you.  [Turning  to  Roland  almost  gruffly]  Explain 
your  presence. 

ROLAND. 

[With  meelcness]  I  am  a  pilgrim  on  my  way  down  the 
Rhine.  May  I  be  placed  in  your  debt  for  this  night's  shel 
ter? 

DIETRICK. 

I  like  not  the  pilgrim  kind,  my  daughter  shall  say  "yea" 
or  "nay."  [Waves  his  hand  toward  her.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Yea,  father. 

DIETRICK. 

[To  Roland]  Thou  hast  heard  my  daughter.  I  bid 
thee  welcome,  although  I  like  not  your  kind. 


ROLAND    OF    ROLAXDSECK.  29 

[Moves  with  Hildegunde  down  left]  Come,  sit  tliee 
here.  [Both  sit  on  bench  ]  [Roland  stands  up  right  cen 
ter,  presumably  unconcerned.] 

[Holding  Hildegunde's  hand]  My  child,  there  is  a  law 
in  the  world  called — duty.  It  keeps  the  world  in  motion 
— I  mean,  by  "keeping  the  world  in  motion"  that  we  have 
to  do  our  dutv  towards  the  race.  In  doing  what  is  re 
quired  of  us,  the  world  progresses.  I,  you,  in  fact  all  of 
us,  have  some  duties  to  perform ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Yes,  father.  I  have  always  tried  to  do  my  best.  My 
duty?  I've  done  all  that  has  ever  been  asked  of  me, 
still,  you  must  have  some  object  in  speaking  as  you  do. 
What  is  it,  father? 

DIETRICK. 

My  child,  you  are  discerning !  It  is  a  very  simple  thing 
which  I  ask  of  you —  I  want  you  to  marry.  [Effect  on 
Roland  and  Hildegunde,  whose  eyes  unconsciously  meet.] 
The  man  I  want  you  to  marry  is  Count  Falkenstein. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Slowly]  Father,  no  one  knows  their  own  duty  better 
than  themselves.  I  know  mine.  Granted,  you  ARE  my 
father — I  love  you  as  a  daughter  should  love  her  father — 
that  is  all.  We  have  not  come  in  contact  with  each  other 
as  often  as  is  the  custom.  But  it's  not  my  fault.  It  now 
appears  that  you  want  to  use  me,  and  with  your  wonted 
diplomacy,  you  talk  to  me  of — duty.  A  little  while  ago 
you  said  that  I  was  discerning — and  so  I  am.  Do  you  think 
that  I  will  give  you  my  soul  because  you  want  it?  Give 
it  to  you  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  some — friend?  No! 
I'm  no  such  fool.  I  shall  wed  the  man  I  love.  That  is 


my  answer ! 


DIETRICK. 


So  it  seems  that  you  are  wiser  than  I  gave  you  credit 
for! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

It  seems  so,  father. 


30  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

DIETRICK. 

[Dryly']  Y — e — s  !  [Thinking  hard]  Y — e — s !  Lis 
ten  to  me.  I  have  asked  you  to  marry  this  man  because  I 
want  him  as  a  friend.  I  can't  see  what  objection  you 
have  to  him.  He  has  worldly  position  and  wealth.  If 
you  do  not  love  him  now,  you  can  learn  to.  Our  country  is 
unsettled,  especially  this  part  of  it.  Every  Baron  here 
abouts  claims  precedence  over  his  neighbor.  It  is  my  wish 
to  crush  the  weaker  ones,  and  through  you  I  mean  to  do 
it !  The  most  powerful  of  my  enemies  is  Roland  of 
Rolandseck. 

[Here  Hildegunde  and  Roland  exchange  glances.] 
[Hildegunde  stands  immovable.] 

I  hate  him,  as  I  hate  no  other.  He  has  thwarted  me 
at  every  turn.  He  has  set  the  people  against  me.  This 
MUST  end !  It  is  my  purpose  to  organize  a  League.  This 
Roland,  amongst  others  like  him,  will  fall  under  the  ban. 

[A  pause.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Full  of  calm  and  terrible  repose — she  looks  at  Dietrich 
with  eyes  full  of  fire]  Know  then — I — love — your — 


enemy ! 


DIETRICK. 


[The  disclosure  makes  no  great  impression  upon  him — 
at  least  not  discernible]     You — love — him? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Unflinchingly]     As  God  is  my  witness! 

DIETRICK. 

Never — never — as  long  as  I  live,  will  you  marry  that 
wretch  !     I  would  rather  see  you  dead  at  my  feet ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[The  words  of   her   father   burn    themselves   into    her 
brain]     [She  repeats  them  to  herself  slowly.] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  31 

You.  .would,  .rather,  .see.  .me.  .dead.  .at.  .your., 
feet!  You.  .would,  .rather,  .see.  me.  .dead — 

Oh!  [in  horror]  And  you  call  yourself  my  FATHER! 
You — would — rather — see  me  dead  than  happy;  oh,  hor 
rible,  horrible  [hoarsely']  [She  sinks  down  on  the  bench 
overcome — her  head  in  her  hands.] 

[A  pause.] 

DIETRICK. 

[Standing  over  her  solemnly]  My  child,  we  are  the 
Lords  of  Drachenfels !  We  come  of  a  great  race — we've 
never  married  for  love — it's  not  our  destiny. 

It  is  power  that  we  want — power  only  ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Hysterical — between  her  sobs  she  speaks  in  a  simple 
voice]  You — can  have  the  power,  father — GIVE  ME,  the 
the  love!  [Piteously]  I  want  only,  HIS  lo — ve !  only 
his  lo — ve! 

DIETRICK. 

[With  great  solemnity]  Des — tiny.  My  child,  it's 
not  our  destiny  to  gain  our  happiness  through  love. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Gives  a  wild — hysteric  laugh — with  a  burst  of  passion 
ate  feeling]  But — I — say — it — is — my — destiny  !  It  is  7 
who  marry  the  man.  He's  to  be  MY  husband — not  some 
dead  ancestor's — and — I — I  will  choose ! 

ROLAND. 

[Moves  down  stage  and  faces  both  H.  and  D.]  [Speaks 
with  dignity  and  conscious  power]  [Addressing  Hilde- 
gunde]  You  are  right — I  say  it  humbly. 

[Turns  to  Dietrich]  I  would  ask  you  a  question.  Can 
your  child  share  her  joys,  sympathize  with  a  man  she  does 
not  love  or  honor — you  will  answer  me,  if  you  are  a  man — 
NO.  Marriage  is  a  sacred  thing — a  union  of  two  souls — 
it  is  not  her  fault  that  she  is  in  love — nor  is  it  her  fault 
that  she  loves  your  enemy.  Love  is  the  soul  of  God  that 


32  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

speaks  in  mortal  souls — when  you  despise  its  power,  you 
despise  the  power  that  gave  you  life — that  made  you  what 
you  are. 

DIETRICK. 

[Looks  at  Roland  coldly]  Stranger,  you  were  not 
asked.  I  told  you  I  did  not  like  your  kind. 

[Turns  to  Hildegunde]  Listen  to  me — to-morrow  night 
there  is  a  banquet  in  thy  father's  halls — among  those  pres 
ent  will  be  Count  Falkenstein.  I  want  you  to  look  well 
— I  want  you  to  smile — for  nothing  pleases  as  much  as  a 
smile.  Look  your  best  for  the  Count's  sake.  He'll  be 
your  future  husband. 

ROLAND. 

[Between  his  teeth]     Never ! 

DIETRICK. 
[Commandingly]     See  that  you  are  ready. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I  am  going  away — far  away  from  here.  [As  if  speaking 
to  herself.] 

DIETRICK. 

[Sarcastically']     So  ?    You're  going  away,  eh  ? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I  am  going  into  a  convent — I  want  to  forget  the  world. 

DIETRICK. 

You  want  to  rob  the  earth  of  a  treasure;  you  want  to 
rob — [Roland  throws  off  his  disguise  and  finishes  the  sen 
tence  for  DietrickJ] 

ROLAND. 

Baseness  of  a  victim !     [A  picture.'] 

[Up  center]  [Comes  down  and  faces  loth]  [With  a 
tremendous  burst  of  vitality,  he  glares  at  Dietrick  with 
rage.] 

A  father — who  is  not  a  father. 
A  wretch — MORE  than  a  wretch. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  33 

A  base,  selfish,  unnatural  parent, — a  man  who  would 
sell  his  soul  in  order  to  crush  his  own  flesh  and  blood. 

[Advances  upon  him  and  looks  him  in  the  eye}  Mon — 
ster ! 

Tremble, — crouch, — if  you  were  not  her  father  I  would 
exterminate  you  as  something  leprous ! 

[Dietrick  makes  a  move  as  if  to  call  for  help.} 
Call,  and — I'll  KILL  YOU  ! 

[A  pause,  during  which  participants  become  more  com 
posed.}  [Dietrick  ceases  his  efforts  to  arouse  assistance.] 

I  want  to  speak  with  you.  I  want  to  reason  with  you, 
as  I  would  with  a  friend ;  and  I  want  you  to  listen. 

Some  men  are  strong — they  conquer  passion ! 

Some  stifle  it  forever  ! 

Others  cover  it,  and  play  the  hypocrite ! 

But  there  is  a  time  when  passion  bursts  forth  with  re 
newed  energy,  come  of  long  suffering — then — there  are  no 
flood-gates  to  stem  its  furious  velocity ! 

I  tell  you  this  because  I  want  you  to  know  that  if  YOU 
have  suffered,  I  have  suffered  also !  If  YOUR  heart  has 
bled,  MINE  has  bled!  You  are  ambitious — so  am  I.  It 
seems  that  you  want  power,  that  you  want  gold,  I'll  give 
you  both  of  them.  I'll  subjugate  all  the  ambition  that  I 
have,  to  your  usage.  All  I  have,  everything  that  is  mine 
or  ever  will  be  mine,  is  yours.  I  ask  but  one  thing — the 
hand  of  Hildegunde — still  I  rob  you — for  of  all  riches  she 
is  the  richest !  I  want  her  to  come  to  me  with  her  father's 
blessing.  I  repeat — I  will  give  you  anything  you  ask  for ! 

DIETRICK. 

[With  long  suppressed  venom]  I.  .would,  .have,  .your 
..HEAD! 

[Roland  recoils.] 

I  want  to  hold  it  in  my  hands  and  cry  out  to  the  world, 
"Behold  my  enemy !"  I  want  to  spurn  it  with  my  foot,  I 
want  to  throw  it  to  the  wolves  and  I  want  to  hear  their 
hungry  music ! 


34  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECE. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Piteously]  Oh !  for  God's  sake,  don't  say  that,  father 
—don't ! 

DIETRICK. 

[Repulsing  her]    Go — you  are  NOT  my  child  any  longer ! 

[Hildegunde  sobs  violently,  goes  up-stage  and  leans 
against  something  upright.] 

[To  Roland]  I  am  an  old  man — you,  you  came  into 
my  house,  you  robbed  me  of  my  only  child,  and  now,  sir, 
I  say  to  you  that  you've  earned  an  old  man's  curse  to 
follow  you  to  your  grave.  [With  emphasis]  [A  pause.] 

Go  !    I've  had  my  say ! 

[Die-trick  walks  sloivly  to  right,  towards  the  entrance 
into  the  Castle.]  [He  reaches  the  step,  places  one  of  his 
feet  on  the  first.  He  is  arrested  by  the  voice  of  Hilde 
gunde.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Her  voice  is  like  that  of  a  little  child — as  if  she  was 
about  six  years  old]  [It  brings  back  to  Dietrick  fond 
memories  of  days  of  long  ago]  Fa.  .th..er!  [She  ap 
proaches  him]  Don't  be  hard  on  him,  father ! 

[Roland  has  his  back  half  turned  up  stage.] 

Father,  father  dear,  for  mother's  sake  if  not  for  mine. 
Mercy ! 

DIETRICK. 

[Sad,  almost  reproachfully]  You  were  not  merciful  to 
your  father.  You  lulled  me  to  sleep  in  a  blissful  dream, 
and  when  you  kissed  me,  false  were  your  lips.  You  must 
have  laughed  at  my  gray  hairs.  [Voice  choked]  [A  pause] 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me? 

[Hildegunde  sobs,  and  as  he  talks  she  turns  away.] 

All  that  went  to  make  me  proud — a  father's  love  for  his 
child — you  gave  to  a  stranger.  You've  shattered  what 
little  faith  I  still  have  in  mankind. 

Why  didn't  you  wait  till  I  was  dead? 

[Hildegunde  sobs  again.      Roland,  unnoticed,  goes  up 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  35 

center,  turns  as  the  emotion  possesses  him,  to  regard 
Hildegunde.  He  soon  will  take  his  place  actively  in  the 
scene.] 

[Dietrick  waits  for  an  answer  to  his  question.  There  is 
none  forthcoming.  A  fatal  silence  settles  on  the  scene.] 

[With  decision]  If  you  choose  this  man,  I  know  you 
no  more. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Raises  her  head  slowly.  Looks  at  Dietrick  for  a  mo 
ment]  [With  simple  womanliness  and  feeling]  But  I'll 
still  know  YOU,  father.  I  have  never  known  you  to  treat 
me — [Her  voice  breaks]  [She  sobs  hysterically]  Fath — 
er !  Pardon  me.  Speak  that  one  word — "PARDON." 

DIETRICK. 

[Gently  but  firmly]  Is  it  duty  or  is  it — love?  Will 
you  obey  ME,  or  will  you  go  away  with  the  man  who  has 
your  father's  curse? 

[Hildegrunde  stands  transfixed.] 

[Dictrick  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the  stage.  Hilde 
gunde  down  center  towards  left.  Roland  up  center.  Hilde 
gunde  is  hysterical — her  eyes  are  staring  into  vacancy.] 
[A  pause.] 

Duty — or — love ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[She  looks  at  Roland — almost  a  happy  smile  illu 
minates  her  face.  She  goes  towards  him  a  step  or  so,  sud 
denly  she  looks  at  her  father.  This  makes  her  give  an 
involuntary  shiver.  She  stands  thus  for  a  few  seconds 
undecided,  then  looks  at  Roland  again — she  murmurs  hy 
sterically.] 

Duty — duty — 

[She  then  staggers  forward  towards  both  men — she  toi 
lers  and  with  an  "Ah,"  falls  back  unconscious  into  her 
father's  arms.  A  pause.  Roland  thinks  she  has  given  him 
up.  lie  is  crestfallen.  He  slowly  gains  control  of  himself. 
Dietrick  has  shown  no  sign  of  emotion — but  within  he  is 
exultant.] 


36  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

[Roland  center  near  door.] 

ROLAND. 

I  honor  the  lovely  burden  in  your  arms,  for  doing  what 
she  calls  her — duty — ;  but  duty  is  only  a  word.  I  go — 
but  think  not,  to  defeat.  If  HER  duty  is  by  her  father's 
side,  MINE  is  surely  by  the  side  of  my  people.  Dietrick, 
Lord  of  Drachenfels,  we  meet  again.  I  want  to  tell  you 
this  before  I  leave.  It  takes  more  than  a  word  to  conquer 
Eoland  of  Eolandseck.  Your  men  are  BUT  men — your 
threats  BUT  threats,  trifles  light  as  air — and  I  know — 
none  better  than  I [stops  as  if  with  a  hidden  mean 
ing']  Beware  !  I  might  have  cause  to  curse  you — but 

farewell !  [Exit  center.] 

[Quick  curtain.] 


THE  SECOND  ACT 


ACT  II. 

On  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  near  Rolandseck.  Early 
morning.  Castle  Drachenfels  seen  across  the  river.  This 
is  the  spot  where  the  Rhine  takes  a  graceful  curve.  Trees 
both  left  and  right.  Music  ivhen  curtain  rises.  Sounds 
of  the  forest — rustling  of  trees,  birds,  etc.  No  one  on  the 
stage  when  curtain  rises.  Effects  of  dawn  and  sundry 
other  light  effects.  Love  and  forest  melodies  blended  in 
the  music.'] 

[Enter  Roland,  without  disguise.  He  has  wandered 
during  the  night.  After  the  events  which  took  place  in 
the  Castle  he  has  made  his  way  to  the  river  bank.  He  has 
crossed  over  to  the  Rolandseck  side  and  wanders  about 
aimlessly .] 

[The  Prayer  of  Roland.] 

ROLAND. 

The  smiling  face  of  Heaven,  in  all  its  radiant  splendor, 
so  vast — so  boundless — above  me  spreads — and  nature,  an 
imated,  plays  a  sacred  hymn.  The  Master  bids  the  solemn 
organ  breathe,  and  love-inspired,  voiceful  grown,  resounds 
the  proudest  jewels  of  the  treasured  mind.  Many  a  time 
have  I  wandered  among  these  lordly  elms,  and  heard  the 
music  pour  forth  from  the  golden  throats  of  the  singing 
birds. —  What  pleasing  landscapes  spread  beneath  their 
eyes! 

[A  pause. ,] 

These  are  the  haunts  of  the  solitudal  soul — these  the 
scenes  from  which  nature's  noblemen  draw  their  inspiring 
breath — where  fancy  charms,  in  a  thousand  different  ways, 
and  sweet  meditation  holds  its  sway. — 

Oh,  God !  'tis  Thy  celestial  music  that  thrills  my  soul. 
I  love  Thee  and  I  love  Thy  world !  Thou  hast  given  me 
eyes  wherewith  to  see.  I  see  around  me  Thy  Mansion 


40  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

Beautiful !  I  honor  and  love  all  Thy  creatures — and  lov 
ing  them,  I  love  and  honor  Thee!  Father,  Father  in 
Heaven,  the  woman  I  love  I  ask  of  Thee !  I  ask  Thee  to 
give  me  the  happiness  that  comes  of  woman! 

[He  lies  down  and  falls  asleep  under  a  great  tree.] 
[Music.']  [Music  continues  for  a  while  and  then  gradu 
ally  dies  away.~\ 

[Sound  of  oars  striking  the  water,  mingles  with  Hilde- 
gunde's  voice.  She  has  alighted  from  the  boat  some  dis 
tance  away.']  [She  calls  from  off  right.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Ro— land !     Eo— land ! 

[Her  voice  grows  in  volume  as  she  approaches.]  [Ro 
land  awakes,  comes  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  listens  with 
attention  and  marked  surprise.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Still  calling]     Ro— land!     Ro— land!  ! 

[Roland  rises  and  walks  toward  the  place  from  whence 
the  sound  of  the  voice  comes.]  [Enter  Hildegunde.] 
[Roland  moves  impetuously  towards  her — takes  both  her 
hands  in  his.] 

ROLAND. 

How  came  you  here?  I  thought  that  you  were  a  pris 
oner  in  your  father's  castle? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

He  does  not  know  that  I  am  here.  I  felt  that  I  MUST 
see  you ! — 

[Pleadingly]     Don't  send  me  away ! — 

ROLAND. 

Send  you  away? —    How  could  I? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Glad  and  thankful]     I  knew  you  wouldn't. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  41 

[A  joyous,  yet  embarrassed  silence.]  [She  lays  her 
hand  caressingly  on  his  shoulder — a  speechless  look  in  her 
eyes.] 

ROLAND. 

[Expressing  in  his  face  the  rapture  he  feels']  Mark  the 
sweet  silence — the  perfume  of  the  morn — how  tender  the 
blooming  youth  of  life !  How  sad  the  spirit  of  the  south 
wind ! — 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  a  deep  breath.  She  has  caught  his  enthusiasm] 
Lo — vely  !  Lo . .  ve . .  ly  ! 

[This  takes  her  across  the  stage.  She  sits  down  in  a 
picturesque  attitude  on  a  boulder.  Her  eyes  follow  the 
windings  of  the  river.  Roland  wanders  over  to  her  side 
musingly.  They  are  both  happy  and  at  peace.  After  a 
thoughtful  interlude,  Roland  speaks.] 

ROLAND. 

Suppose  that  we  were  to  sail  down  the  Khine,  passing 
castle  after  castle;  in  the  end  we  would  find  ourselves  in 
the  lap  of  the  lofty  Alps, — a  step — we  are  in  Italy — but 
what  a  step !  Love  .there,  is  warm ;  it  burns  itself  with 
its  own  fire.  In  the  south — music  is  the  voice  of  love! 
Here,  it  is  deep — the  more  I  think  of  it,  it  seems  to  say  to 
me — 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Preoccupied.  Gazes  vacantly  towards  the  river.  Her 
soul  has  been  dreaming.  She  awakens  with  a  little  start, 
rises  slowly  and  looks  up  into  his  face.] 

[With  incredulity]     What — does — it — seem — to — ? 

ROLAND. 

[Speaking  slowly  and  with  intensity]  It  says,  "Give — 
me —  more." 

HILDEGUNDE. 

More  ? — 

ROLAND. 

More. 


42  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Bewildered']  Am  I  not  your  friend — nay,  more — 
your  beloved? —  Do  I  not  love  you  with  all  my  heart? 
[A  little  timidly — shamefacedly]  Some  day,  when  my 
father — and  you — have  made  peace  with  each  other — I 
shall  he  your  wife — besides,  even  now — in  thought — I  am 
your  wife ! 

ROLAND. 

[With  a  touch  of  sarcasm]     "Your  wife!" 
[Roland  crosses  to  left  first  entrance  and  repeats  to  him 
self]:    "My  wife!" 

[This  takes  him  up  left.  Then  he  crosses  to  her  again.] 
[Hildegunde  watches  him  with  astonishment.] 

[With  honest  indignation]  Oh,  it  makes  me  mad  to  be 
trifled  with !  Women ! — they  are  ALL  false.  THEY  call  it 
love —  Oh,  it's  cruel,  cruel !  Oh,  sun,  where  is  thy  face — 
winter  rules  the  world  ! 

[Roland  crosses  to  right  first  entrance.] 
[Slowly]     I'm  sick  of  it  all ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Crushed  by  this  sudden  outburst — she  comes  up  to  him 
from  center  to  right  first  entrance.] 

[Pleadingly]     Eoland,  don't  act  like  this. 
[Roland  becomes  a  trifle  calmer.] 

ROLAND. 

There's  no  harm  in  what  I  say;  besides  the  sentence  is 
so  full  of  courtesy — so  pleasing — so  melodious — [with  deri 
sion]  [Lingering  on  the  words]  Besides — even — now — 
in — thought — I — am — your — husband — !  [Laughs  ironi 
cally.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Do  not  jest  with  me. 

ROLAND. 

Jest  with  you  ?  No  !  It  is  YOU  who  jest  with  ME.  The 
last  few  days  have  almost  turned  my  brain.  There  is  a 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  43 

fever  in  my  head  and  in  my  heart. —  If  we  wait  until 
your  father  gives  his  consent  we'll  never  be  man  and 
wife.  [Pauses  excitedly]  [Controls  himself,  although 
under  a  strong  emotion.]  What  constitutes  a  marriage? 
A  bit  of  soiled  parchment  ?  No !  That's  an  outworn  idea. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Turns  on  him  with  astonishment — gradually  realizing 
his  meaning]  An — outworn — idea?  Surely  you  do  not 
think  that  the  preservation  of  a  woman's  good  name  is  an 
outworn  idea  ? — 

ROLAND. 

Listen  to  me.  I  want  to  go  back  to  the  events  of  last 
night.  When  your  father  said — "duty  or  love",  you  should 
have  come  to  me.  Your  duty  is  by  the  side  of  the  man 
you  love — no  matter  what  happens. 

A  woman  once  belonging  to  a  man — in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  is  his  forever:  father — mother — all  ties  are  noth 
ing.  You  say  you  love  me — what  then  is  love  if  not  duty  ? 

[Comes  up  to  her  passionately]  Am  I  a  man — or  do 
you  take  me  for  a  pulseless  monument?  Have  I  not,  like 
other  men,  a  sense  of  right  and  wrong  ? — 

[He  pauses — she  is  silent.] 

[Reproachfully]  Can  I  trust  in  you,  when  every  little 
while  you  change?  I  can't  help  thinking  that  you're 
only  amusing  yourself  with  me.  [Continues  very  serious 
ly  and  with  intense  feeling]  Hilda,  my  love  for  you  en 
titles  me  to  speak  my  mind  freely.  If  you  love  me,  don't 
break  my  heart.  I've  had  a  hard  life — you've  been  the 
only  ray  of  sunshine  in  it.  Do  not  stifle  what  little  faith 
I  have  left.  I'd  rather  you  would  say  "good-bye"  NOW; 
return  to  your  home,  let  me  love  and  lose,  but  don't,  don't 
play  on  me,  don't  play  on  me ! — 

[He  pauses  and  continues  quietly]  Return  to  those  at 
home — your  peace  of  mind — your  gaiety — marry  the  man 
your  father  wills  you  to.  ...  I've  fought  with  the  few 
men  who  love  me — my  fight  with  the  world — and  I  can 
keep  on  fighting  in  the  same  way — with  no  woman's  voice 
to  cheer  me — till  the  end.  [He  pauses]  Go  ! ....  take 
with  you  your  woman's  dignity  and  honor,  and  leave  me  to 
myself — ALONE  ! 


44  ROLAND    OF    ROLAXDSECK. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  simple  passion]  Bo — land!  I  love  you  in  spite 
of  all  you  do  or  say.  I  will  stay  with  you — I'll  leave  all 
for  your  sake.  It  shall  be  as  you  have  said — one's  duty 
is  by  the  side  of  the  man  one  loves !. . .  .THERE  is  A  TIME 

IN   THE   LIFE  OF   EVERY   WOMAN   WHEN   A  MAN   CAN   MAKE, 
OR  MAR,  HER  FUTURE  ! 

[Moves  closer  to  him  and  lays  her  hands  caressingly  on 
him']  Make  or  mar  mine,  and  let  me  do  the  same  for  you ! 

[Speechless  silence]  [The  sun  shines  on  the  river, 
which  becomes  like  unto  silver.  A  few  little  dark  clouds 
pass  in  the  background.] 

[She  takes  his  hand  in  hers.  Her  face  is  full  of  hope. 
His  is  moody]  Look !  Look !  [Points  to  the  clouds] 
Cour — age!  See,  the  clouds  yonder;  my  mother  used  to 
say  to  me  that  every  cloud  has  a  silver  lining.  Hope — 
Hope.  It's  all  that  we  have  in  life.  Smile — even  though 
you're  sick  at  heart. 

ROLAND. 

[Releases  her  hands.  He  is  in  a  troubled  mood]  That's 
the  philosophy  of  a  woman — patience.  If  you  build  cas 
tles  in  the  air,  as  I  have  done,  contemplate  their  fall  as  I 
do, — you  would  very  soon  seek  out  some  new  philosophy. 
My  enemies  would  like  very  much  to  have  me  under  lock 
and  key — or  better  still — [with  a  grimace,  points  down 
ward]  send  me  down  to  the  old  gentleman  below.  No  !  I 
have  seen  enough  of  life;  I  know  that  everything  worth 
while  must  be  fought  for — that  the  man  who  waits — keeps 
on  waiting,  and  the  man  who  doesn't  wait — carries  off  the 
prize.  It  is  a  selfish  world — the  ready  soldier  wins. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  a  touch  of  sadness]  I've  ventured  more  than 
you — I've  given  you — myself.  YOUR  love  is  all  I  have. 

"Love  is  of  man's  life  but  a  part,  'tis  woman's  whole  ex 
istence."  [Clasps  her  hands  and  lowers  her  head]  You 
men — you  are  ambitious — you  go  through  fire  and  water 
to  do  great  things — while  we,  we  women  are  forced  to 
look  on ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAND8ECK.  45 

ROLAND. 

[Becoming  more  animated.  His  next  words  are  said  in 
a  piquant,  comedy  strain — the  emotion  of  which  is  scin 
tillating]  Oh,  how  I  love  you — I  love  you  better  than 
life.  I  love  you  as  the  moonbeams  love  the  tranquil  sea 
— I  love  you,  like  I  love  the  languid  spirit  of  the  summer 
night, — I  love  you  as  I  love  a  melody  of  sad  and  pleasant 
thoughts,  as  I  love  an  angel's  tear  that  wipes  away  a  dark 
sin, — so — DO — I — LOVE — YOU. 

[Pause.'] 

[Hildegunde  is  delighted]     Your  FACE,  my  queen — 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[In  the  same  manner  as  Roland — piquant]  My  face? 
[She  pauses — puts  it  right  up  to  him]  [Quickly]  Do 
you  like  it? —  [Bubbling  over  with  inward  mirth.] 

ROLAND. 

Ah,  your  face,  whereon  sweet  music  has  set  its  liquid 
seal.  It  steals  its  color  from  the  rose.  Your  LIPS — cher 
ries  ripe  to  fullness,  kissed  by  the  scent  of  wild  flowers.  I 
kiss  them,  too.  [Kisses  her  on  the  lips.] 

[Hildegunde  laughs  prettily.  Crosses  him,  taking  one  of 
his  hands  as  she  does  so,  and  leads  him  to  a  seat.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Now;  you  sit  THERE.     [Forcing  him  down.] 

ROLAND. 

[After  he  is  seated]     Ah ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I  will  sit  HERE.  [Places  herself  next  to  him  on  the  left] 
Now,  I  want  you  to  give  me  your  hand.  [Suits  the  action 
to  the  words]  Now,  just  imagine — 

[Roland  signifies  "YES"  with  a  nod.] 

This  is  a  ROOM — it  is  NIGHT — we  are  alone — 


46  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

ROLAND. 

[With  a  touch  of  comedy'] — Nobody  with  us. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

There  is  a  fire  on  the  hearth. 

ROLAND. 


Won't  summer  do? 


HILDEGUNDE. 


[Smiles]  No.  I  like  winter  best.  We  sit  like  this — 
the  fire — the  room — the — 

ROLAND. 

Isn't  there  a  child  on  the  hearth-rug? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Laughs']  You  silly  boy !  Listen — [pleadingly]  PLEASE. 
We  sit  hand  in  hand,  THUS  I  lean  my  head  on  your  shoul 
der,  THUS, — and  NOW,  WE  DREAM — WE  DRE — AM — 

ROLAND. 

[TP/io  is  pleased  at  the  imagined  situation]  WE  DREAM 
— [sighs]  Ah ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Growing  serious]  Not  of  a  love  of  wanton  and  base 
desires,  but  of  a  love  of  soul  to  soul.  The  doors  of  our 
minds  will  be  opened;  opened,  too,  will  be  our  hearts.  Our 
souls,  flooded  with  sunshine.  MY  heart  will  be  a  palace, 
and  y — o — u  will  rule  my  heart ;  y — o — u,  my  king ! 

ROLAND. 

My  mind  loves  your  mind — my  body  loves  your  body. 
All  must  be  harmonious,  else  there  can  be  NO  REAL  JOY. 
You  are  too  supremely  mental,  I'm  afraid.  Soul  and  body 
must  comingle.  Wisdom's  akin  to  folly.  Hilde — gunde! 
[He  draws  her  with  gentle  force  to  him]  [After  a  pas 
sionate  look,  his  lips  seek  hers]  Sweet  is  the  fruit  of  YOUR 
LIPS,  my  Hilda;  they're  the  way  to  Heaven.  [He  holds 
her  away  from  him]  [With  ecstasy] — Oh!  how  full  of 
bliss  is  this  moment! 


ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK.  47 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[A  little  frightened]  [She  looks  at  him]  You're 
trembling. 

ROLAND. 

[Showing  surprise]     Am  I? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Still  frightened]     Like  an  aspen  in  the  wind. 

ROLAND. 

[Rises  and  walks  up  and  down  with  rapid  strides]  [Un 
der  a  severe  strain  of  emotion]  [He  pauses  in  his  walk 
in  front  of  her — gazes  into  her  eyes]  Oh,  why  are  you 
so  beautiful ! 

[Continues  half  sadly] — Oh,  Hilda,  it  is  your  beauty 
that  robs  me  of  my  manhood ! 

[A  pauseJ] 

[He  leans  close  over  her — his  eyes  are  rivited  upon  her 
eyes.  Hildegunde  seems  to  be  fascinated]  [There  is  a 
pause,  during  which  the  souls  of  these  two  characters  seem- 
to  be  at  passionate  war  with  each  other.] 

[His  breath  coming  quickly]  Hilda — I  am  your  slave! 
I  want  you — I  want  you — YOU — YOU ! 

[In  a  hoarse  whisper]  Let  us  go.  I  want  to  taste  the 
highest  bliss ! 

[Roland  endeavors  to  embrace  her  with  rapture] 
[Hildegunde  starts  away  from  him  with  sudden  alarm — 
her  face  ashen  pale.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 
Not  THAT,  not  THAT  ! 

[She  stands  upright.     Her  bosom  palpitating — her  eyes 
have  a  wild  stare  in  them,]     [He  stands  center.] 
[There  is  a  pause.] 

[Roland  slowly  gains  control  of  himself.  She  comes 
up  to  him  slowly;  very,  very  slowly,  some  great  emotion 
moving  her  along.  Her  two  hands  are  up  to  her  chin, 
her  face  bloodless;  with  the  wild  look  of  a  woman  trying 


48  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

to  protect  herself  from  harm]  [The  color  leaves  Roland's 
face,  and  strong  as  he  is  at  times,  he  grows  cowardly  be 
fore  this  woman's  emotion.  When  close  to  him  there  is 
a  pause — during  which  both  of  them  look  at  each  other.'} 

Roland !  Look — MY  FACE  !  MY  FACE  !  [Passionate 
ly]  Do  you  see  in  letters  of  fire,  that  word  "LUST"  im 
printed  there?  [Pauses]  [Frenzied]  If  you  do,  you 
lie.  you  lie !  It's  NOT  there !  It's  not  THERE  ! 

[Intense  pause]  [She  laughs  hysterically,  then  contin 
ues  with  terrible  irony,  lingering  on  every  word]  Whereon 
— sweet — music — has — set — its — liquid — seal ! 

[Crosses  on  next  line]  Oh,  the  hypocrisy  that  abides 
in  the  heart  of  man!  Oh,  you  are  cunning,  all  of  you; 
you  try  your  best  to  ruin  innocent  women !  Oh,  how  you 
have  deceived  me! — Sinned  against! — played  with! — 
[Comes  up  to  him  CENTER]  [Furiously]  And  YOU — 
YOU  have  done  this — YOU  whom  I  almost  worshipped  as 
a  God!  You  did  it — YOU! 

[A  pause.] 

ROLAND. 

[Stands  stern  and  quiet]     Hear  me. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Still  impassioned]  Hear  you !  [Laughs  mockingly] 
Hear  YOU — YOU  whom  I  loved — whom  I  would  have  left 
my  home  and  my  friends  for.  Oh,  it's  too  much ! 

ROLAND. 

[Quietly]  [With  the  simplicity  in  which  the  following 
is  said,  lies  the  strength] — Compose  yourself.  I  am  too 
honest  to  add  hypocrisy  to  my  other  sins;  if,  in  a  moment 
of  passion,  I  so  far  forgot  myself  as  to  propose  what  I  now 
deem  the  very  height  of  folly,  show  your  graciousness, 
pardon  my  boldness,  excuse  it  on  the  score  of  human 
frailty. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Lowers  her  head  in  thought  Under  the  spell  of  his 
voice  she  has  become  calmer.  She  walks  slowly  from 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  49 

where  she  is  up  to  the  right  third  entrance,  pauses  on  the 
banks  of  the  river,  and  falls  into  a  melancholy  reverie.] 

ROLAND. 

[Quietly — with  pleading  in  his  voice]  Hil — da,  you 
will  forgive  me — will  you  not? 

[Hildegunde.is  silent.  She  looks  down  at  the  flowers 
nestling  at  her  feet.  Roland,  not  receiving  a  reply  to  his 
question,  lowers  his  head  in  disappointment]  [There  is 
a  second's  pause]  [Her  bosom  palpitates,  her  eyes  gleam. 
She  is  looking  out  upon  the  river,  entranced  with  its 
beauty.  She  seems  to  breathe  in  something  of  what  it 
tells  her.  Her  feeling  breaks  out  as  follows]  : 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Beau — ti — ful,  beau — ti — ful  Khine!  Thou  glideth  on 
ward,  a  song  on  thy  lips — vine-clad,  castle-clad,  thy  banks 
— like  a  huge  silver  vein;  you,  the  twining  serpent.  God 
of  Rivers,  guard  us  from  our  foes !  The  little  flowers  that 
nestle  here  on  thy  banks  say  to  thee,  "Oh,  river,  thou  dost 
cherish  me.  I  am  grateful  to  thee.  I  thank  thee  for  thy 
bounty."  [She  kneels  on  one  knee  and  strokes  the  flower 
as  if  it  were  human.  She  uses  the  higher  register  of  her 
voice  when  she  speaks  what  the  flower  says  to  the  river; 
and  the  middle  register  with  more  strength  and  feeling, 
when  the  river  answers  the  flower.]  [She  looks  toward 
the  river,  then  turns  to  the  flower,  and  speaks  as  if  the 
river  answers  the  flower.]  [Slowly  and  full  of  musical 
feeling]  "Thou  art  beautiful,  oh  flower !  I  love  thy  per 
fume  !  To  see  thee  bloom,  and  TO  KNOW  that  thou  art 
happy  is  the  joy  of  my  life !  [She  pauses]  [Rises  cold 
ly  and  faces  Roland  in  marble-like  repose]  [He  is  now 
master  of  himself  in  all  his  actions] 

[With  coldness]  But  you  men,  you  are  never  satisfied, 
you  always  want  what  you  haven't  got.  You're  like  chil 
dren.  You  want  to  be  amused,  but  you  want  REAL  toys ! 
We  poor  creatures  think  that  you're  all  that's  noble;  until 
the  veil  is  drawn  from  oft7  the  mask,  then  we  find,  that  you 
are  all  SELF,  SELF ;  even  when  you  marry  us,  you — 


50  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSEOK. 

ROLAND. 

[Interrupting]  There  I  must  set  you  right.  What 
you  say  of  men  is  false.  There  are  circumstances;  both 
sexes  are  not  angels;  we're  all  human;  the  animal  in  us 
has  the  mastery.  Culture  is  what  WE  add — it  is  the  veil 
over  the  mask.  Strife  of  all  kinds  should  be  but  a  name. 
There  will  come  a  time  when  we'll  go  never  to  return,  and 
then,  who  knows —  We  should  not  be  too  exacting  even 
in  morals.  Everything  is  too  much  so  now-a-days.  In 
religion  it  should  be  what  our  reason  teaches  us  about  God, 
not  what  men  see  fit  to  say.  The  best  guide  for  us  to  fol 
low  in  this  life  is  intuition — common  sense,  call  it  what 
you  may.  My  common  sense  says  to  me  that  I  am  wrong, 
that  I  have  made  a  mistake.  Will  you  forgive  me?  You 
have  been  deceived  in  me,  and  I,  in  myself. 

I  have  no  stability,  like  most  men.  I'm  not  good,  like 
you  are.  Hilda,  you  do  not  know  me. 

"To  err  is  human,  to  forgive — Divine." 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Tenderly]  I  forgive.  You  are  a  good  man.  You  have 
fared  ill  on  life's  great  sea.  True,  you  are  weak,  but  with 
it  all,  there  is  in  your  soul  Heaven's  own  harp;  ill  airs  of 
passion  have  been  played  upon  it,  still  it  is  there,  and  it  is 
in  tune  with  all  that  is  great  and  good  on  earth  and  in 
Heaven. 

ROLAND. 

[Reproachfully,  to  himself]  WThat  a  wretch  I  have  been 
to  have  tried  to  injure  her  ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Virtue  is  woman's  crown.  With  it,  she  is  rich — with 
out  it,  poor  and  alone.  A  GOOD  WOMAN  WALKS  BY  THE 

SIDE  OF  GOD;  AND  I  WANT  TO  BE  A  GOOD  WOMAN. 
ROLAND. 

[Admiringly~\  You  are  pure,  and  what  is  more  than 
purity,  you  have  strength  of  mind.  You  will  trust  me? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Tenderly'}     Surely,  how  can  you  ask  that? 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  51 

ROLAND. 

My  love.  I  promise,  will  be  an  honest  one.  I  give  you 
the  rose  you  have  given  me;  take  it,  the  blushing  herald 
of  a  heart  that  has  cast  off  sin!  [About  to  kiss  the  rose, 
when  Hildegunde  stops  him.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Oh,  don't  do  that !     [Coquetishly.] 

ROLAND. 

[Stops  in  wonderment]     Why? 

^  HILDEGUNDE. 

[Slightly  embarrassed,  with  a  touch  of  naivete]  It's 
a  pity  to  waste  'em. 

[Roland  laughs  with  pleasure]  [They  Iciss]  [Hilde 
gunde  slowly  draws  away  from  Roland — towards  right] 
[Slow  music.] 

ROLAND. 

[Following  her]     When  do  we  meet  again? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

In  the  same  old  place,  this  afternoon.  [TFitf/i  concern] 
You  will  be  careful  in  the  meantime  ?  Do  not  place  your 
self  in  danger. 

ROLAND. 

[With  tender  passion]  I  promise  not  to,  for  your  sweet 
sake. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Bewitchingly]     Good — bye. 

ROLAND. 

Good-bye,  my  love,  God  keep  you. 
[Picture  of  leave-taking.     Lights  all  out.] 
CURTAIN. 


THE  THIRD  ACT 


ACT  III. 

Hildegunde's  apartments  at  Castle  Drachenfels. 

[Door,  right  second  entrance.  Bookcase,  up  right  cen 
ter  Another  door  up  left  third  entrance.  Small  table 
near  door,  right  second  entrance.  Large  door  with  dra 
peries  up  center — main  entrance,  through  which  may  be 
seen  adjoining  alcove,  with  flowers;  through  the  windows 
of  this  alcove  one  may  get  a  view  of  the  surrounding  coun 
try. 

Medium  size  table  down  right  center.  Chair  on  either 
side  of  table.  In  front  of  this  table  is  a  small  stool.  Sofa 
placed  at  an  angle  of  45  degrees  over  to  the  left  center.  To 
the  left  of  the  sofa,  touching  it,  is  a  small  table,  on  which 
a  person  seated  on  said  sofa  could  easily  place  his  or  her 
hand.  A  small  round  table  up  left  center  near  main  door, 
on  which  is  placed  a  lamp  of  the  period.  There  are  also 
other  decorations  of  the  period,  chairs,  etc.,  placed  ad  libi 
tum.  A  few  bars  of  light  music  before  drop  ascends,  con 
tinuing  until  exit  of  servant.  Elsa  seated  in  chair,  left  of 
table  down  right.  Curio  on  sofa  left.  Both  have  books  in 
their  hands,  pretending  to  read;  their  backs  half  turned  to 
each  other.  They  are  just  after  having  a  lovers'  quarrel. 

A  servant,  in  livery,  enters  from  right  door.  He  places 
a  vase,  filled  with  roses,  on  table  down  right.  He  pauses 
a  second,  while  there,  and  gazes  with  a  half  perceptible 
smile,  from  Elsa  to  Curio,  then  crosses  behind  sofa,  stops 
to  take  a  decanter  from  table  left  and  exits  from  door  up 
left 

Elsa  and  Curio  sigh  deeply,  start  to  look  at  each  other 
and  then  turn  away  quickly,  then  sigh  woefully,  and  read 
with  added  industry.  Elsa  suddenly  throws  herself  back 
in  her  chair,  with  a  little  sighJ\ 


56  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECE. 

ELSA. 
I'm  so  happy ! 

[This  makes  Curio  sigh  in  great  distress.  He  rises  as 
if  to  go.~] 

CURIO. 
Hap — py ! 

[Curio  crosses  in  front  of  table  left  and  goes  to  center, 
as  if  he  intended  to  leave  by  door  right.  Elsa  starts  to 
bury  her  head  in  some  fancy  work  which  she  has  taken 
from  the  table,  and  applies  herself  to  same  assiduously. 
Curio  pauses  and  looks  at  her.~\ 

You  are  happy,  are  you?     Well,  Fm  just  miserable. 

[A  slight  pause]  [Elsa  seems  to  think  that  there  is  a 
great  deal  to  do  on  the  fancy  work,  all  of  a  sudden.  He 
gazes  at  her  and  finding  that  she  won't  answer  him,  takes 
a  sudden  interest  in  the  flowers  on  the  table.  Goes  behind 
table,  smells  of  the  flowers,  remarking]  :  Aren't  they 
beauties  ? 

[Elsa  nods  her  head  without  looking  at  him.] 

[Curio  goes  to  chair  right  of  table  and  sits  down 
thoughtfully — trying  his  best  to  pave  the  way  towards  a 
reconciliation]  Keally,  now — do  you  know,  Elsa — I  some 
times  think — 

[Elsa  looks  up  and  laughs.] 

Oh!  really,  now — I  DO  think,  sometimes.  I'm  not  al 
ways  that  gay  but  that  I  have  my  sober  moments,  like  the 
rest,  and  ugly  sober  moments  they  are,  too,  believe  me. 
[Laughs  good-naturedly]  Well,  then,  I  won't  say  that  I 
think — I'll  just  say — I  fancy.  Just  to  PLEASE  you. 

ELSA. 
"Please,"  that's  better.       [Goes  to  work  again.] 

CURIO. 
[With  thoughtful  animation]     I — fancy — 

[At  this  moment  Elsa  seemingly,  by  accident,  tears  her 
embroidery  work.  She  gives  an  involuntary  exclamation 
and  rises  and  goes  to  the  center.] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  57 

ELSA. 

[Poutingly]  How  aggravating!  Now  you  see  what 
you've  done;  you've  gone  and  made  me  that  nervous  that 
Fve  torn  what  I've  been  working  on  for  the  last  month. 
[Stamps  her  feet  and  turns  her  back  on  him]  Oh ! 

CURIO. 

[Quietly,  yet  seriously,  with  a  touch  of  emotional  com 
edy]  El — sa !  Just  fancy  that  my  heart  is  that  delicate 
piece  of  finery  that  you  hold  in  your  hands, — yes — perhaps 
you  smile,  but  nevertheless,  it  is  just  as  apt  to  be  torn  by 
those  same  hands  that  have  torn  it.  [A  moment's  pause] 
Yeu  will  mend  IT,  why  not  mend  my  heart,  likewise?  It 
is  woman's  tender  office  to  come  with  her  love  as  with  her 
needle  and  thread — no!  I'm  not  joking;  and  sew  up 
the  little  places — the  grief  rends — made  by  the  rude  buf 
feting  of  the  world,  "and, — 

ELSA. 

[Continues  in  the  same  tone  as  used  by  him,  but  adds 
to  it  a  feeling  of  womanly  pride]  And — sometimes  we 
make  the  rent  worse — don't  we? — and  sometimes — we  tear 
the  work  out  of  spite.  [Crosses  to  the  right.] 

CURIO. 

[Follows  her  and  with  manliness  continues  her  thought] 
Yes,  and  sometimes  the  seamstress  gets  caught,  too ! 

ELSA. 

[Turns  round  to  him  and  laughs]     Really? 

[Moves  near  table  right  and  waves  a  rose  at  him,  chang 
ing  her  tone  as  she  does  so]  Won't  you  have  a  ROSE? — 
[emphasizes  the  word  rose.] 

CURIO. 

[Very  near  her]     I  will,  with  pleasure! 
ELSA. 

[As  she  is  about  to  give  it  to  him,  some  of  the  thorns 
prick  her  fingers.  She  gives  a  little  cry  of  pain.  Crosses 
to  center]  Oh! 


58  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

CURIO. 

[Follows  tenderly]  Oh,  did  it  hurt?  Fm  so  sorry! 
....  Poor .  .  hand ! .  . .  . 

ELSA. 

[As  his  pity  grows  so  does  the  pain]     Oh! 

CURIO. 
[Taking  her  hand]     Poor — little — hand! 

[She  turns  away  as  if  she  knew  what  was  coming.  He 
to'kes  a  ring  from  out  of  his  pocket  and  places  it  on  her 
finger.] 

[Continuing  with  delicious  humor]  Is.  .it.  .better.  . 
now? 

ELSA. 

[Blushes]  [Nods  her  head]  [Kisses  the  ring — looks 
up  laughingly  into  his  face  and  says  softly  and  with 
warmth]  :  Yes. — 

[Elsa  and  Curio  embrace.] 

ELSA  AND  CURIO. 

Ah! 

CURIO. 

Ah,  you  make  me  happy,  so  happy! 

ELSA. 
So  am  7. 

[Elsa  extricates  herself  from  his  embrace  and  goes 
to  the  stool  in  front  of  the  table  which  is  down  right. 
He  is  indeed  happy,  but  in  a  roguish  mood  up  to  any  sort 
of  mischief — she  likewise  is  overflowing  with  spontaniety 
and  good  spirits,  and  taps  the  carpet  with  impatience,  tak 
ing  a  pleasure  in  showing  him  her  dainty  little  foot.] 

Do  you  know  aught  of  the  Lord  Roland  and  the  Lady 
Hildegunde?  Do  you  believe  that  they  love  each  other, 
or  are  they  only  friends? 

CURIO. 

I  do  not  know.  Love  is  a  "LIFE"  story;  and  friendship 
is  a  sort  of  carrier-pigeon  to  love — and  just  like  a  carrier- 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  59 

pigeon,  friendship  flies  away  and  comes  back  with  a  little 
billet-doux  around  its  neck. 

[As  he  delivers  this  speech,  he  advances  toward  her  and 
looks  at  her  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes — merrily.] 

ELSA. 

[Clasping  her  hands  together,  enraptured  with  his  ex 
planation]  Oh,  please  don't  stop ! 

CURIO. 

[Half  smiling  to  himself  as  if  appreciating  his  own 
glibness]  Well  then,  I  will  tell  you,  and  possibly  my  dis 
course  will  give  you  the  whole  course  of  love.  Now.  it  is 
my  idea  that  the  first  thing  a  man  does  is  to  lay  siege  to  a 
woman's  heart.  At  the  door  of  that  heart  stand  two  sen 
tinels;  one  is  called  "HOPE,"  the  other,  "FEAR."  When 
the  lover  defeats  these  two,  he  reaches  passion's  sea.  That's 
the  time  delicious — the  best  of  all — just  before  the  avowal ! 

ELSA. 
What  of  THAT? 

CURIO. 

THAT  is  the  first  chapter  in  the  story  of  love.  He  tells 
her  how  true  is  his  love !  He  speaks  to  her  words,  words 
that  she  has  starved  all  her  life  to  hear !  He  whispers  in 
her  ear  how  much  he  loves  her,  the  air  she  breathes,  the 
very  ground  upon  which  she  walks.  [He  watches  the  ef 
fect  of  his  words  upon  her.] 

ELSA. 

[Wonderingly]  Is  it  all  HIM — is  there  nothing  of 
"HER"? 

CURIO. 

Her?  [Raising  his  eyebrows]  Well,  she's  a  little,  de 
ceitful,  sparkling-eyed,  pouting-lipped,  dimple-cheeked  lit 
tle  devil,  and — 

ELSA. 

And?     [Raising  her  eyebrows] 
CURIO. 
And  she  just  makes  his  heart  rise  to  blood  heat ! 


60  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

ELS  A. 

[Musingly]     What's  the  second  chapter  in  your  "LIFE" 

story  ? 

CURIO. 

[Growing  more  serious — watching  her  more  closely] 
[Takes  on  an  air  of  retrospection}  That  is  the  sublime  mo 
ment  in  both  their  lives.  It  comes  only  once.  He,  who  has 
plucked  the  fair  flower,  now  describes  to  that  flower  tUc 
Infinitude  of  Love;  he  tells  her  that  the  love  in  his  heart 
is  of  God  born,  and,  with  a  sigh,  and  a  kiss,  says  he  to  her, 
the  path  to  Paradise  lies  on  her  lips. 

ELS  A. 

[Following  him  closely]  What,  .would.  .YOU.  .say.  .if 
YOU  the  lover  were?  [Looks  into  his  eyes  longingly.] 

CURIO. 

This.  There  is  no  purer  fame  than  the  love  a  man 
bears  to  a  good  woman — everything  else  in  life  is  a  mere 
trifle  compared  to  a  man's  love  and  a  woman's.  In  life, 
love  is  everything;  ambition — nothing.  Love  is  unlike 
ambition,  from  this  standpoint,  that  it  does  not  die  in  the 
casket,  that  it  does  not  breathe  the  baleful  air  of  corrup 
tion.  True  love  is  no  heir  to  Mortality's  last  resting- 
place.  It  rises  like  a  captive  from  the  darkness  of  death, 
breathing  the  dreamful  song  of  Heaven.  [A  sigh  of  con 
tent  escapes  from  the  lips  of  Elsa.] 

ELSA. 

[Satisfied]  Ah,  if  you  would  only  say  that  to  me!  [Al 
most  under  her  breath.] 

CURIO. 

[Grows  suddenly  cold  and  diplomatic]  [Comes  slowly 
over  to  her  and  adds  with  a  touch  of  solemnity]  :  That 
was  the  second  chapter — the  third,  and  last  is — marriage. 
My  friends  tell  me  that  once  they  have  a  thing  they  grow 
tired  of  it,  and  as  for  myself,  it  is  MY  opinion  that  the 
whole  charm  of  love  lies  in  the  courting,  and  what  comes 
after  merely  bores  one. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  61 

ELSA. 

[Gives  him  a  look  of  scorn;  becomes  motionless  and 
says,  almost  between  her  teeth]  :  BRUTE! 

[Leaves  him  abruptly,  goes  to  door  right;  stands  there, 
looks  at  him  with  an  air  of  a  great  lady,  and  with  a  pro 
nounced  haughteur  says]  : 

Sir  !  s — i — r !  I — scorn — thee  !  [Stamps  her  foot, 
exits  abruptly  through  door  right] 

CURIO. 

[He  keeps  his  equanimity  until  she  is  off  the  stage,  then 
breaks  out  into  a  low  laugh  and  mimics  her  tone]  "Sir! 
S — i — r !  I — scorn — thee  !"  [He  laughs  at  the  recollec 
tion]  [First  stops  and  puts  his  hands  to  his  chin,  then 
points  with  his  finger]  Woman — a  volcano.  A  volcano 
— a  woman.  "Sir,  I  scorn  thee  I"  [Laughs  again]  Pshaw ! 
a  waiting  maid — a  waiting  maid.  It  was  my  idea  that  I 
should  marry  a  princess  of  the  blood  Eoyal.  Ah !  Fm  a 
fool! 

[Reasons  with  himself]  Suppose  that  I  were  married 
— I  know  I  would  get  tired  looking  at  the  same  woman  9 11 
the  time;  the  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to  drive  in  single  har 
ness;  still,  marriage  isn't  half  bad  when  you  look  at  it  in 
the  right  light — it  has  its  good  points,  too.  [He  thinks 
very  hard,  then  with  decision,  goes  towards  door  and  says 
abruptly]  Yes,  I'm  going  to  chance  it — I'm  going  to  do 
it  just  for  a  change!  [He  laughs — is  about  to  leave  by 
door  right;  during  the  meantime  in  the  hesitancy  of  his 
decision,  Hildegunde  and  Beatrice  have  entered  from  main 
entrance  center.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Near  center  door]  Curio !  [ This  arrests  his  depart 
ure.] 

[Beatrice  down  left.] 

CURIO. 
[Turns  politely  towards  Hildegunde  and  bows]  Madam  ? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I  promised  to  hear  you  read  from  your  book. 


62  ROLAND    OF    ROLAXDSECK. 

CURIO. 

You  had  that  goodness,  madam.  It  is  more  out  of  the 
kindness  of  your  heart,  than  any  merit  of  mine,  I  can  as 
sure  you. 

BEATRICE. 

[Pleasantly]     He's  modest — is  he  not? 

CURIO. 

No,  that  I'm  not;  call  it  being  just.  It  is  the  really 
great  who  are  modest. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Going  left]  Well,  will  you  read?  Have  you  your 
book  handy?  We  will  ourselves  judge  of  its  merit. 

CURIO. 
[Coming  center]     First,  will  you  grant  me  a  favor? 

[Hildegunde  shows  signs  of  vexation.] 

[Apologetically]  It's  only  a  trifle  I  ask — you  see — 
I'm  in  love. 

[Beatrice  laughs  lightly] 

Oh,  pray,  don't, — don't  offend  my  feelings.  [Aesthetic 
manner]  I  possess  a  very  delicate  organism. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I'm  sure  Beatrice  is  very  sorry  if  she  has  hurt  your 
feelings.  You  have  our  permission  to  retire.  [With  inter 
est]  Stay,  do  you  really  love  this  woman? 

CURIO. 

[Stops  midway  near  the  exit  and  comes  back  to  center 
and  speaks  with  enthusiasm]  Ah,  madam,  you  never 
could  know  how  much  I  love  her.  SHE  sits  in  my  heart 
like  a  little  bird.  All  day  long  this  little  bird  sings  such 
lovely  little  songs — [Stops  and  adds  with  a  sigh]  Oh!  I 
love  her  handsomely,  devotedly. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Kindly]     I  wish  you  all  the  joy  you  can  wish. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  63 

CURIO. 

[To  the  right  of  the  table  and  on  the  right  side  of  the 
stage]  A  thousand  thanks.  [Bows.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Crosses  to  right.  She  arranges  flowers  on  table]  If 
you  should  happen  to  see  David  on  your  way,  give  him 
word  of  us. 

CURIO. 

Your  wishes  are  my  commands.  [Slowly  retires — 
bows  and  exits]  Madam,  I  have  the  honor ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  a  languid  yawn]     Ah ! 

BEATRICE. 

[Lightly]  Don't  you  think  people  are  happier  when 
they  haven't  as  much  as  we  have?  Take,  as  an  example, 
the  fool  who  has  just  left  us — 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Yes.  He's  much  happier  than  we  are — they  ALL  are — 
there  is  nothing  that  we  can  call  our  own.  [She  laughs 
bitterly.] 

BEATRICE. 

[With  sympathy]     No — not  even  our  hearts. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

No,  not  even  our  hearts ! 

BEATRICE. 

[Goes  towards  Hildegunde  and  speaks  with  self-con 
tained  vitality  and  as  if  thoroughly  convinced  of  ivJiat  she 
says]  Hildegunde,  you  are  mad — absolutely  mad.  If  I 
were  in  your  place  what  wouldn't  I  do  for  the  man  I  love ! 
I  have  never  had  the  chance — you  have  it  and  you  let 
it  slip  by.  No  one  ever  thought  that  my  heart  was  worth 
winning.  [Tenderly]  Let  me  live  my  love  in  yours — 
oh,  if  you  only  would —  Cousin,  I  bid  you  go  to  the  man 
you  love. 


64  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Sadly]     It  is  too  late  ! 

BEATRICE. 

Why  not  forget  everything — your  father — worldly  opin 
ion — go  to  arms  of  .your  lover.  Your  father  raised  you 
from  childhood,  and  why  did  he  do  it,  pray? 

[Enter  David,  center'}  [Hildegunde  and  Beatrice  do 
not  see  him.  He  stands  listening.'] 

Have  you  ever  asked  yourself  that  question?  No.  Do 
not  let  your  father  use  you. 

[Hildegunde  sits  during  this  speech.  Her  head  has 
been  resting  in  her  hands;  when  Beatrice  finishes  she  looks 
up.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

You  forget — I  am  only  a  woman !  Oh,  if  I  had  the 
strength  of  a  man !  ! 

DAVID. 
Here  I  am — I  am  here !     The  blind  have  ears — 

[Hildegunde  and  Beatrice  are  surprised  and  turn  to 
wards  David. ] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

But  what  can  YOU  do  ? 

DAVID. 

Child,  'tis  my  music  that  will  give  you  strength. 

[David  walks  down  stage  slowly.  Beatrice  leads  him  to 
chair  left  of  the  table  on  the  right.  David  sits.  Beatrice 
goes  up  stage  to  bring  David  a  small  harp.  Hildegunde 
crosses  to  him  and  takes  him  by  the  hand.} 

HILDEGUNDE. 

It  was  only  yesterday,  David,  that  you  said  you  pitied 
me. 

DAVID. 
I  forget— did  I  ? 

[Beatrice  comes  down  stage,  with  harp,  crosses  and  sits 
left.]  [Hildegunde  stands  meanwhile.'] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  65 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Yes,  yes,  you  did.  You  pitied  me;  Fm  in  need  of  it 
now.  [Hildegunde  kneels,  David  caresses  her.]  They 
say  that  love  feeds  on  music.  It  it  not  so,  David  ? 

DAVID. 

It  has  been  said,  child,  by  many  wise  heads  and  poets  of 
long  ago. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Then  play  something — I'm  in  need  of  such  music. 

[Beatrice  has  crossed  during  this  scene  and  now  gives 
David  the  harp.  Hildegunde  falls  into  a  reverie.  David 
plays.  Beatrice,  influenced  by  the  music,  walks  up  to  table 
left  of  center  door.  She  relaxes  into  a  poetical  attitude. 
Music  ceases.  Hildegunde  sighs.  Beatrice  comes  down 
slowly  to  left  center.] 

[Absentmindedly  sings  this  snatch  of  an  old  English 
ballad,  in  a  quaint  way~]  : 

"Once  I  kissed  Sir  Roland — beneath  the  greenwood  tree; 
Once  I  kissed  Sir  Roland's  mouth,  before  he  married  me." 

[She  laughs  vacantly]  [Beatrice  grows  attentive.  David 
relapses  into  thought.] 

[Speaks  as  if  to  herself]     No !  I  shall  not  marry  him ! 

BEATRICE. 

[Comes  to  Hildegunde's  left.  Touches  her  slightly  on 
the  shoulder.  Hildegunde  starts  out  of  her  reverie.] 
Whom? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

The  Count  Falkenstein. 

BEATRICE. 

You  were  accursed  else.     Love  those  who  love  us,  and, 
from  what  you  say,  Roland  is  a  man  to  love. 
[Hildegunde  weeps  silently]     Do  not  weep ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Sadly  and  with  deep  feeling]  What  are  tears  anyway 
— when  the  heart  is  breaking?  The  pity  of  it,  Beatrice, 


66  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

the  pity  of  it!  Here,  in  this  house,  a  prisoner,  because 
one  loves.  I  saw  him  only  this  morning — I  came  home 
thinking  soon  to  see  him  again — and  now  all  doors  are 
barred  against  me. 

[Sarcastic']  My  father's  locked  me  in — but  he  can't 
lock  the  doors  of  my  soul,  no,  he  can't  do  that;  my  soul, 
that  is  free,  thank  God. 

[She  crosses  down  left]  To  think  that  even  the  birds 
breathe  a  sweeter  air  than  we  do.  Oh,  God !  why  can't  we 
be  a  little  happy  while  we  have  the  chance?  Death  comes 
so  soon — Heaven  knows  this  life  is  but  a  minute  in  the 
world's  ten  thousand  years.  They  say  that  Nature  in  her 
goodness  deals  kindly  with  us  poor  souls,  and  I  know  in 
my  heart  that  it's  all  a-  lie,  a  living  lie — a  lie.  [Breaks  out 
and  sobs.  Sinks  down  with  exhaustion  on  chair,  right.'] 
[A  pause.] 

[Dietrich  has  entered  meanwhile  from  door  left.  He 
comes  into  the  room  a  little  way,  stands  there  and  takes  in 
the  situation.'] 

DIETRICK. 

Hildegunde!  What  ails  you,  my  child?  You  do  not 
answer  me?  Have  you  no  welcome  for  your  father,  or  is 
he  then  your  father  no  longer? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Turns  and  spealcs  to  David]  I  want  you  to  sing  for 
my  father  the  verses  that  I've  composed  in  his  honor.  I 
am  sure  they  will  please  him.  Indeed,  I'm  very  sure ! 
Play,  David,  it  is  my  wish. 

DAVID. 

[Sings  and  plays.] 

Alas !     'Tis  true  that  stern  ambition 

Is  but  a  child  of  moulded  clay, 
And  that  love  doth  reign  forever; 

God  be  blessed,  right  has  its  day. 

He  is  not  who  wields  the  scepter 
The  brightest  gem,  the  richest  stone, 

'Tis  he  with  soul  as  pure  as  crystal, 
That  forms  the  basis  of  HIS  throne ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  67 

[During  this  song  Hildegunde  and  her  father  gaze  at 
each  other.  Beatrice  to  one  side.  In  the  look  of  Hilde 
gunde  there  is  pride.  Dietrich's  face  shows  cold  penetra 
tion.] 

[A  pause.] 

DIETRICK. 

THIS  is  the  welcome  you  have  prepared  for  me  ?  7,  who 
am  your  father! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Is  it  not  a  lovely  welcome?  [Naively']  Could  you 
want  for  a  better?  See,  father,  I  welcome  you  in  music  — 
Rome  could  not  have  done  more  for  Caesar.  Music  brought 
tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  redoubtable  Julius,  why,  then,  will 
it  not  bring  tears  to  yours?  Surely  you  axe  as  great  a 
man  as  he  was !  Still,  it  does  not  seem  to  please  you ;  come,  a 
dance — a  dance — play,  play — a  dance — a  dance.  [Busi 
ness  of  joyousness  ] 

DIETRICK. 

[Deeply  to  himself]  This — from  my  own  flesh,  my 
own  blood !  Hilda — let  us  have  more  of  those  kind  of 
verses — I,  I  like  them.  [He  laughs  low  and  cynically'] 
Perhaps  you  don't  know  it,  but  I  myself  am  some 
what  of  a  poet — a  trifle  tragic — I  admit — but  still, 
somewhat  of  a  poet.  I  write  hymns  [Pointedly]  I  think 
Fll  write  you  one  that'll  make  your  blood  curdle — yes, — 
that  very  same  blood  that  you've  got  from  me — from  me. 

[Hildegunde  laughs  lightly,  endeavoring  to  hide  her 
fear.] 

[Beatrice  up  center.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Do  you — REALLY — think  so? 

DIETRICK. 

[Ironically]     Y — e — s!     I  REALLY  do. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Turns  on  him  savagely]     Never! 


68  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

DIETRICK. 

[Shrugs  his  shoulders]  Tut!  I  expected  that — BUT, 
my  dear,  my  obedient  child — there  are  MEA.NS  ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  nobility  of  feeling]  YES,  there  are  means,  means 
to  be  great  in  soul,  to  hold  converse  with  one's  God ;  those 
are  means  you  know  nothing  about,  cruel  father  that  you 
are !  Let  me  tell  you,  there  are  worse  things  than  death ! 

DIETRICK. 

[Breaking  out  passionately']  Yes — yes — marriage,  and 
to  beget  daughters  like  YOU  ! 

[Advances  to  center]  Yes — YOU, — with  all  your  fine 
discrimination — your  moods  like  the  air  one  blows  through 
a  pipe. 

[Imitates  her  in  a  mocking  tone]  "I  would  have  music, 
David  I"  One  would  imagine  you  were  somebody !  You ! 

[Loses  control  of  himself]  This  is  MY  castle.  [Makes 
a  sweeping  gesture  with  his  hand]  These  are  MY  serv 
ants,  the  very  garments  you  wear  are  mine — what  would 
you  be  but  for  me?  Ingrate!  Through  me  you  know 
what  you  know.  It  is  my  own  gold  that  laughs  at  me  now. 
[Fiercely]  Do  you  hear  me?  I  own  you,  body  and  soul 
— all,  ALL!  I  own  you — and  I'll  do  with  you  what  I 
like ;  understand  me — I  am  King  in  my  own  Castle ! 

BEATRICE. 

[Comes  down  from  center,  between  Dietrick  and  Hilde- 
gunde]  [Dietrick  backs  to  left.  Hildegunde  right.  Da 
vid  in  chair  left  of  table  right]  [Interrupts  with  a  cour 
tesy  and  burlesques  him]  Your  Majesty !  Your  Majesty ! 
[Bowing.] 

DIETRICK. 

[Controlling  himself]  Ah,  ha,  my  little  subject,  with 
you,  too,  there  will  be  a  day  of  reckoning.  Have  no  fear 
— I'll  rid  myself  of  all  of  you — your  clowns — your  sick 
musicians — your  servants — your. . . . 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Stop !     What  you  have  to  say,  say  it  against  me.     May 


ROLAND    OF    ROLAXDSECK.  69 

Heaven  forgive  me  for  what  I  am  about  to  do. —     Would 
that  David  were  my  father  instead  of  you ! 

[Picture.] 
[Dietrich,  overcome,  sinks  in  chair.] 

DIETRICK. 

[Deeply  distressed]     Good  God! 
[Pause  ] 

DAVID. 

[Addressing  Hildegunde]  Don't  talk  that  way,  no  mat 
ter  how  full  of  sorrow  your  soul  might  he.  He  is  your  blood 
father;  before  the  world  he  is  more  to  you  than  I  am. 
Blood  is  thicker  than  water ;  still,  were  you  my  own  child, 
I  could  not  love  you  more  than  I  do  now.  [Hildegunde 
strokes  David's  head] 

[Off  right  the  voices  of  children  are  heard]  [Beatrice 
moves  from  center  to  door  right]  [Dietrich  still  seated, 
left]  [The  voices  of  the  children  grow  in  volume  as  they 
approach]  [Cue  for  their  entrance — just  after — "I  DO 
NOW."] 

[Enter  a  little  boy  and  a  little  girl,  simply  but  neatly 
dressed.  As  they  step  into  the  room,  they  turn  back  to 
wards  the  other  children  on  the  outside,  and  putting  their 
fingers  to  their  lips,  say,  "SH !  SH  !"  They  advance  towards 
Hildegunde]  [Each  carries  a  bunch  of  flowers] 

LITTLE   GIRL. 

Mother  sent  you  these  flowers,  dear  lady.  [Courtesying] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

How  sweet!     Thanks,  thanks! 

LITTLE  BOY. 

[Shyly]     These,  too! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Thank  you,  my  little  man ! 

[Hildegunde  kneels  on  one  knee  and  continues  in  a 
motherly  tone]  And  how  is  your  mother,  children? 


70  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

[The  rest  of  the  characters  on  the  stage  pay  their  re 
spective  interest  in  this  scene  according  to  their  rank.  The 
mind  of  each  character  remains  in  the  same  state  as  before 
the  entrance  of  the  children.] 

LITTLE  GIRL. 

The  doctor  says  mother  is  much  better,  thanks  to  God's 
will  and  your  kindness,  dear  lady. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

And  do  you  pray  to  HIM,  EVERY  NIGHT  ? 

LITTLE   GIRL. 

Yes!  [Shaking  her  head]  Because — mother — says — 
if — I  didn't — my  soul — wouldn't — go — to  Heaven. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  a  broken  voice,  but  with  an  attempt  to  smile,  and 
occasionally  looking  towards  her  father,  as  if  speaking 
to  him,  although  addressing  the  children']  When  you 
pray  to-night,  pray  a  little  for  me,  too.  I — need — your — 
prayers. 

LITTLE  GIRL. 

I  always  pray  for  you,  because  I  like  you. 

[Hildegunde  looks  pleased]  [Hildegunde  seats  herself 
on  chair  right.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Now,  then,  little  ones,  come  and  sit  upon  my  lap.  [They 
do  so]  When  you  little  people  grow  to  be  big  people  like 
us,  you'll  have  to  go  out  into  the  big  world  and  every  one 
in  the  big  world  is  very,  very  hard. 

[She  stares  into  vacancy  and  her  voice  falters]  Some 
do  good  for  others,  some  only  for  themselves ! 

LITTLE  BOY. 

We'll  do  good  for  others,  won't  we,  sister? 

LITTLE   GIRL. 

Yes!     [Shaking  her  head.] 

Because  mama  says  if  we  do,  we'll  go  to  Heaven ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  71 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Addressing  the  girl]     Yes,  that's  right. 

[Addressing  the  boy]  Never  forget  that  it  was  your 
mother  who  suffered  most  to  bring  you  here.  If  ever  you 
see  some  one  else's  sister  who  is  weak  and  helpless,  try  and 
remember,  you,  too,  had  a  sister.  A  good  deed  is  a  star  in 
Paradise ! 

[Turning  to  the  girl]  And  you,  sweet  child,  try  and  re 
member  that  a  woman's  lot  is  patience.  It's  a  woman 
destiny  to  shape  another's  future,  to  bend  to  her  wish  that 
which  bends  to  naught  else  on  earth.  Now  then,  I'm 
going  to  give  each  of  you  a  kiss  and  say  good-bye.  There — 
[As  she  places  them  on  the  floor.] 

[Little  girl  and  boy  run  towards  door,  waving  good-bye.] 

[Calling  after  them]  Tell  your  mother  I'll  visit  her 
soon ! 

[Hildegunde  moves  to  door,  watching  them  as  they  go, 
and  listening  to  their  good-byes.] 

Just  think  that  some  day,  they,  too,  will  know  what  it  is 
to  love! 

DIETRICK. 

[He  rises,  stands  looking  at  Hildegunde  with  a  passive 
countenance]  Hil — de — gunde. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Looking  off  as  before]  They  will  feel  what  I  feel; 
their  little  hearts  will  beat  faster  when  they  hear  the  name 
of  the  one  they  love,  as  mine  does  1 

DIETRICK. 
[As  before]     Hilde — gunde. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Turns  half  way  round,  with  a  sigh]  Did  you  call  me, 
father? 

DIETRICK. 

Yes,  child,  I  did  call  you!  My  time  is  precious.  I 
must  soon  leave  you ! 


72  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Goes  to  him  with  no  trace  of  the  struggle  just 
over]  [Very  sweetly]  But  father,  I  would  rob  you  of 
your  time  only  to  amuse  you! 

[Pleadingly]  Now,  do  please  sit  down;  David  will 
play  and  I  will  sing,  and  we'll  have  Curio  to  recite  some 
thing.  What's  your  favorite  tune,  father? 

DIETRICK. 

[Dwelling  upon  the  words,  like  the  voice  of  Fate]  My 
time  is  precious ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[With  a  touch  of  old-world  politeness;  very  gravely] 
[This  is  done  as  if  by  an  actress  in  the  brilliant,  old,  court- 
dress  comedies]  Father,  even  if  you  were  a  King,  you 
could  not  pay  me  a  higher  compliment  than  you  have  just 
done;  your  time,  being,  as  you  say,  so  very  precious  to 
you,  you  deign  to  honor  ME  with  your  society.  It  shows 
me  that  I'm  not  without  some  fascination,  and  my  heart 
is  glad !  Ah !  it  is  exceedingly  kind  of  you,  dearest 
father ! 

DIETRICK. 

[Looks  quizzically  at  her]  M — m — m — Yes  !  [Hold 
ing  his  chin] 

[Beatrice  who  is  up  center,  pushes  the  portieres  aside,pre- 
tends  to  enjoy  the  scenery  without.  The  audience  get  a 
better  glimpse  of  the  surrounding  country.  Beatrice  is 
apparently  absorbed  in  contemplation  of  said  scenery] 

BEATRICE. 

What  a  beautiful  view !  [Languidly]  Shall  we  go  out 
for  a  walk,  Hildegunde? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

No,  I'm  afraid  not — father  says  that  I  am  ill,  or  seems 
to  think  so.  [Laughs  sarcastically]  He  has  posted  his 
numerous  physicians  at  my  doors.  No,  Beatrice,  I  think 
I'll  stay  indoors  and  read.  [She  goes  up  right  and  opens 
bookcase  and  pretends  to  look  for  a  congenial  book.] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  73 

DIETRICK. 

It  seems  that  you  are  blessed  with  the  happy  faculty  of 
turning  what  is  black  into  what  is  white ;  now,  I  want  you 
to  answer  a  question  that  I'm  going  to  put  to  you ;  it  must 
be  answered  "yes"  or  "no;"  there  is  no  middle  course. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Turning  round']     That  depends  what  the  question  is. 

DIETRICK. 

Well,  will  you  do  as  I  say — will  you  marry  the  man  I 
want  you  to  marry  ?  I  think  you  had  better  put  that  book 
down.  It's  not  an  idle  question,  you  can  readily  see. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Very  -frankly}  Of  course  it's  not  an  idle  question,  but 
I  like  the  book  more  than  the  question.  Yes,  it's  true  most 
every  woman  must  answer  it  one  time  or  another. 

DIETRICK. 

I  find  you  in  a  sensible  frame  of  mind.  You  will  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  to-night. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Who,  father? 

DIETRICK. 

Him — \Looks  at  'her'}     Your  husband,  that  is  to  be. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Oh,  so,  my — husband — eh? — indeed,  how  very  delight 
ful  !  Tell  me,  father,  is  he  a  handsome  man  ? 

DIETRICK. 

Very,  my  child. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Dreamily}  And  his  voice,  father,  is  that  rich  and 
beautiful  ? 

DIETRICK. 

It  is  tuneful,  as  far  as  I  can  judge. 


74  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Enthusiastically']  Oh,  I  do  like  a  voice  that  is  full  of 
music;  don't  you,  David?  [Addressing  David.] 

DAVID. 

I  do,  if  it's  true  music,  not  artificial,  and  the  heart 
of  the  man  is  good ! 

HILDEGTJNDE. 

[To  David]     That's  just  what  I  think. 
[To  Dietrich]     And  his  face,  father,  is  it  interesting? 
I  mean,  con — tern — plative? 

DIETRICK. 

I  think  our  views  differ  on  that  subject. 

HILDEGTJNDE. 

I  wanted  to  know,  although  it  doesn't  matter,  because, — 
I  like  a  dreamy  face — I  think  all  women  do.  And  his  hair 
— what  shade  is  that? 

DIETRICK. 

Black— I  think. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

How  fortunate  I  am.  Father,  you  have  my  taste  ex 
actly  !  Black  is  my  favorite  color.  [She  sighs — her  mood 
changes]  [She  goes  over  to  David  and  places  her  right 
hand  on  his  shoulder  very  gently]  So  many  people  are 
busied  about  ambition — ambition  to  rule,  lust  for  power, 
that  with  insatiable  desire  they  forget  their  God.  In  this 
world  there  are  so  many  beautiful  objects,  but  they  are 
painted  devils  in  disguise,  that  draw  us  from  God;  but 
there  are  those  in  this  world,  who  know  the  worth  of  each, 
that  do  not  despise  the  treasures  of  thrift,  still  are  they 
above  being  slaves  of  gold.  I  am  one  of  these.  Money 
is  very  good  in  its  place — never  to  be  thought  lightly  of, 
but  happiness  is  what  money  can  never  buy.  THE  WOMAN 

WHO   MARRIES  WITH  HER  EYES  OPEN,  A    RICH    MAN,     AND 
ONLY  FOR  HIS  MONEY,  IS  THE  MOST  MISERABLE,  MOST  PITI- 

ARLE  OBJECT  IN  THIS  WORLD  ! — I  will  not  be  that  woman, 
father. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  75 

DIETRICK. 

[Agha-st]  What!  You  have  been  making  a  fool  out 
of  me,  in  my  own  house !  You  dare ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Cold  and  passionate]     I  dare  anything! 

DIETRICK. 

[Boiling  inwardly]     I'll  bend  and  break  you ! 
[A  pause.] 

[Gains  control  of  himself]  Then  you  will  not  do,  I  see, 
as  I  wish  you  to  in  this  matter. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Cold;  in  the  same  politic  strain  as  used  by  her  father] 
No! 

DIETRICK. 

[Smoothly]     I  would  persuade  you  to. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Very  erratic]  [Her  face  flushed  with  excitement] 
You  would  find  that  a  waste  of  words.  [Breaking  out  pas 
sionately]  Oh,  how  I  wish  you'd  leaye  me ! 

DIETRICK. 

[Not  ruffled  in  the  slighest]  Now,  suppose,  I  were  to 
say  to  you  that  I  am  very  glad  that  you  love  this  man, 
Eoland. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Your  lips  could  not  form  the  words. 

DIETRICK. 

Only  supposition,  I  assure  you — supposition,  merely 
that — but — just  suppose  for  instance,  it  were  a  question 
of  this  man's  life — would  you  save  it? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Nonplussed — appearance  of  calm  but  inwardly  hysteri 
cal]  There  is  no  question  of  that. 


76  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

DIETRICK. 

I  was  only  thinking  how  lucky  some  men  are.  I'm  pos 
itive  that  there  is  no  man  who  would  willingly  lay  down 
his  life  for  me,  and  yet,  here  is  a  man,  you,  or  perhaps 
others,  would  die  for. — How  strange ! —  [Wonderingly.] 

[This  takes  him  up  left.  He  pretends  to  leave]  I  think 
I  shall  retire  into  the  privacy  of  my  apartments  and  set 
me  up  a  glass,  wherein  I  may  see  mine  own  image  and 
prove  to  mine  own  satisfaction,  how  it  is,  and  why  it  is — 
I  mean  the  reason  of  it — why  some  one  will  die  for  some 
one  else — for  the  love  of  it,  for — the — love — of — it — as 

they  seem  so  anxious  to  do  in  the  case  of of this 

— this —  [Turning  to  Hildegunde]  What  is  his  name? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Her  throat  dry]     Roland,  so  please  you,  sir. 

DIETRICK. 

Oh,  yes,  I  had  quite  forgot  the  name.  I  thank  you,  in 
deed  I  do. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

These  are  very  fine  words.    What  is  it  you  mean  ? 

DIETRICK. 

[Graciously]  Pray,  be  seated;  Fll  explain — it's  a  habit 
I  have — if  I  receive  a  kindness  I  always  like  the  pleasure 
of  returning  it — the  old  story,  "you  kiss  me  on  one  cheek, 
I  kiss  you  on  the  other."  Y-e-s !  I  think  we  will  have 
David  play  us  a  wedding  march — yes ;  I'M  PRETTY  SURE  IT 

WILL  BE  A  WEDDING  MARCH  ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Stands  like  a  statue']     Is — he — your — prisoner? 

DIETRICK. 

Oh,  don't  be  so  severe.  No,  he's  not  that;  he's  merely 
detained,  that's  all.  You're  a  trifle  harsh ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

What  do  you  intend  doing? 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  77 

DIETRICK. 

[A  pause,  in  which  their  eyes  meet]  Will  you  marry 
Count  Falkenstein?  [Coldly,  questioningly  and  smiling 
to  himself]  I  think  I  have  your  consent,  eh  ? 

[A  pause.] 

DAVID. 

[With  prophecy  in  his  voice]  Patience,  my  child !  I'm 
blind,  yet  sometimes  I  see  things  that  are  not  for  the  eyes 
of  man!  Wait,  wait  and  hope! 

DIETRICK. 

[Laughs  mockingly]  That's  it,  wait,  wait  and  hope. 
[With  a  touch  of  unctuousness]  Take  the  good  man's  ad 
vice — I  assure  you  it  will  do  you  no  harm. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[TF/io  has  been  watching  him  intently,  adds  with  a  touch 
of  firmness]  I — I  don't  believe  you  ! 

DIETRICK. 

[At  first  astonished — their  eyes  meet — flashing  light 
ning].  [He  goes  up  to  her  slowly,  then  with  suppressed 
and  hissing  rage,  says,  with  both  hands  extended]  :  You 
say  this  to  me  again — and  I'll  bring  you  his  head ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Recoils  from  him  with  her  hand  over  her  face  as  if 
struck  by  a  blow.  Her  whole  being  shudders,  and  she 
speaks  in  the  tone  of  a  woman  who  has  undergone  much 
suffering]  You  must  spare  me — you  must — you  must! 
No,  I  do  not  doubt  your  word — I  do  not;  you  see  me — I 
am  quite — quite  calm.  You  have  won,  but  you  must  be 
merciful — you  must — you  will — you  will !  Give  me  time 
in  which  to  think — time.  [Repeats  to  herself]  Time  to 
think,  only  to  think! 

DIETRICK. 

[Interrupting  her]  [He  speaks  in  a  composed  and  even 
tone,  with  no  trace  of  emotion.  Does  not  look  at  her,  his 
eyes  are  turned  upward]  I  want  you  to  marry  this  man, 


78  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

Falkenstein,  because  I  wish  it.  Everything  shall  be  yours ; 
the  alternative  is — you  will  see  the  man  you  love  tortured 
before  your  very  eyes.  If  you  do  as  I  say,  he  shall  be  free. 

[A  pause.'} 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Suppresses  her  sobs  and  draws  herself  up  proudly — 
turning  to  her  father  slowly  and  with  the  air  of  a  queen 
dismissing  a  subject]  Tell  them  to  set  him  free.  I  give 
you  my  word. 

DIETRICH. 

[Advances  a  step  and  bows']  Let  me  be  the  first  to  con 
gratulate  you.  Farewell,  until  to-night. 

[When  he  goes  out  there  is  a  pause,  a  pause  of  realiza 
tion.]  [Beatrice  comes  slowly  up  to  her  with  her  face  full  of 
mute  inquiry  mingled  with  awe.  Hildegunde  answers  them 
both — there  are  no  heroics  in  her  voice,  simply  childish  in 
nocence  and  strength,  the  calm  and  majesty  of  approaching 
death,  coupled  with  the  strength  of  a  soul  bowed  down  in 
sorrow.'] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Y-e-s !  It  shall  be  done !  I  shall  marry  him,  then — I — 
shall — marry — death !  Yet,  mighty  that  narrow  space  'twixt 
slumber  and  strife;  'tis  a  realm  of  rest  for  ALL.  [Her 
right  hand  limply  laid  on  David's  shoulder.  Beatrice  turns 
her  face  away  and  cries  softly  to  herself.] 

[With  resignation]     God's  will  be  done! 

CURTAIN. 


THE  FOURTH  ACT 


ACT  IV. 

Stage  set  in  the  same  way  as  Act  2. 

[Enter  Elsa.]  She  carries  under  one  arm  a  well- filled 
basket,  containing  an  assortment  of  dainties,,  a  few  bottles 
of  red  wine,  glasses,  etc.  These  articles  are  sent  by  Hilde- 
gunde  to  the  mother  of  the  two  children  who  appeared  in 
the  preceding  act.  Elsa  has  led  Curio  a  lively  chase 
through  the  woods.  She  pauses  in  this  place  to  laJce  a 
much  needed  rest.  She  sinks  down  breathlessly  on  a  near 
by  boulder.] 

ELSA. 

Pshew  !  I'm  out  of  breath.  Oh ! — if  men  only  knew  the 
half  of  what  we  women  think  of  them  they  would  be  a 
thousand  times  bolder  than  they  are.  They  don't — I'm 
sorry  to  say — that's  just  the  worst  part  of  it !  They  think 
we're  all  angels.  [Laughs  merrily. ] 

[Enter  Curio.    He  steals  up  behind  her,  unseen  by  her.'] 

Oh,  the  rogues — I  DO  wish  they  would  wake  up  and  be 
alive.  [With  secret  mirth,  permeated  with  coquetry]  I 
could  just  love  a  whole  regiment  of  them. 

CURIO. 

[Dryly]  What — did — you — say — about — the  —  men, 
eh? 

ELSA. 

[Turns  quickly — surprised]  You — you — were — listen 
ing? 

CURIO. 

[Dry  humor]  Oh,  I  heard!  [To  be  said  with  a  rising 
inflection.] 


82  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

ELSA. 

Say  you  won't  be  angry  with  me ! 

CURIO. 

Angry — not  in  the  least!  In  fact — I  was  never  angry 
in  my  life. 

[Elsa  seats  herself  as  before.'] 

Do  you  mind  my  asking  a  question?  I  have  decided  to 
ask  you  whether  you  will  marry  me.  Will  you? 

ELSA. 

[In  a  teasing  mood]  I  haven't  quite  decided  whether  I 
will  or  not.  However — don't  despair — there's  a  possibility 
of  success 

[Curio  advances  eagerly.']    Some  day. 

CURIO. 

Oh,  be  assured,  I'll  not  despair ! 

[Curio  goes  to  'basket,  takes  a  bottle  of  wine  and  says: 
May  I? 

[Before  Elsa  has  time  to  answer  in  the  negative,  he  re 
cites  in  a  light-hearted  manner,  the  following  verse  from 
the  old  Persian  poet]  : 

"Oh,  come  with  old  Khayyam,  and  leave  the  wise 
To  talk ;  one  thing  is  certain,  that  life  flies ; 
One  thing  is  certain,  and  the  rest  is  lies; 
The  flower  that  once  is  blown,  forever  dies." 

That's  it,  Elsa,  Khayyam  was  right.  "Eat,  Drink  and 
Be  Merry — for  To-morrow  We  Die." 

[Pours  wine  into  glass.~\  Here's  to  the  wine! — Spark 
ling  wine  ! — Rich  wine  ! — Ruby  wine  ! — Blood  of  the  moun 
tain  ! — Source  of  ALL  joy !  [He  drinks.'} 

[Continues  in  a  different  strain.] 

"Here's  to  YOU  and  ME,  dear  Lassie — 
ONLY  You  and  ONLY  Me — 
May  we  ever  love  each  other — 
Love  each  other  truthfully. 
Here's  to  YOU 
ONLY  You  and  ONLY  Me." 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  83 

[He  takes  another  drink  and  totters  somewhat,  then 
steadies  himself.  He  is  very  much  overheated.'] 

A  kiss — come,  a  kiss,  dear  Lassie ! 

Let  me  twine  mine  arms  around  you,  until  my  soul  melts 
on  your  lips! 

My  heart  is  full  of  love !  Come — come — while  the  blood 
is  warm  and  the  heart  is  true!  Come!  Live  to-day,  to 
morrow,  too — Come — come.  Withdraw  the  cork  from 
bottled  pleasure,  and  ALL,  ALL  will  be  JOY,  JOY,  now  and 
forever !  [Endeavors  to  embrace  her  passionately. ~\ 

ELSA. 
[Repulsing  him]     Cu — rio! 

CURIO. 

[Out  of  'breath.']  [He  has  caught  her  and  kissed  her  on 
the  lips.']  [She  struggles  to  free  herself  from  his  embrace.'] 
[Naively]  My  dear/  [To  be  said  with  a  rising  inflection.] 

[Enter  Roland.]  [He  goes  up  center.]  [His  mood  is  sad 
and  melancholy.]  [His  hair  disheveled.] 

ELSA. 
[Breathless  and  still  struggling  to  free  herself]    Let  me 

fo — let  me  go,  I  say — no,  no,  you  shall  not,  you  shall  not 
iss  me !    My  lips  are  for  my  husband. 

ROLAND. 

[Steps  down  stage  angrily]  How  dare  you !  I'd  kill  a 
man  who  gives  offense  to  any  woman  in  my  presence. 

[Curio  releases  her  and  recovers  himself.] 

CURIO. 

I'm  afraid  you  do  not  know  the  &ex  as  well  as  I.  This 
is  the  kind  of  "offense"  they  like.  It's  of  a  pleasurable 
sort. 

ROLAND. 

[He  looks  at  Curio  coldly  and  with  his  eye  measures  him 
from  top  to  toe]  I'll  not  waste  words  on  such  as  you! 
But  bear  this  in  mind.  What  is  there  good  in  woman  to 
be  loved,  when  only  that  which  makes  her  so,  has  left  her  ? 


84  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

It  is  her  innocence  that  man  should  revere !  I  have  learned 
that  lesson — YOU,  and  every  man,  who  is  a  man,  should 
learn  it  also. 

[Roland  goes  up  stage  and  takes  his  stand  in  a  pictures 
que  attitude — looking  off  towards  right.'] 

ELSA. 

[Down  left.    Repeats,  as  if  to  herself]  : 

"And  every  man,  who  is  a  man,  should  learn  it  also." 
Ah !  [Sighs,  as  if  to  herself.]  How  lucky  SHE  will  be! 
[Looks  towards  Roland.] 

CURIO. 

[Soberly,  as  if  to  himself]  Some  men  are  BORN  good 
men;  some,  knaves;  some,  become  knaves  from  choice.  It 
all  ends  in  one  way — SMOKE.  Each  a  puff  of  wind.  I 
have  tried  to  be  a  good  man,  but  the  Great  Stage  Manager 
thought  otherwise;  thought  me  better  in  the  other  part. 
[Deeply]  A  fool,  a  knave.  [Elsa  watches  him.  Curio 
pauses.] 

[Without  looking  at  her]     Elsa? 

ELSA. 
Yes?    [Questioningly.] 

CURIO. 
Come  here. 

ELSA. 

Yes?    [Elsa  goes  to  him.] 

CURIO. 
Elsa.     Tell  me. 

ELSA. 

What? 

CURIO. 

Do  you  know  a  remedy  for  love? 

[Elsa  nods  her  head  in  token  of  assent.] 

What,  Elsa  ? 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  85 

ELSA. 

To  be  loved  by  the  one  you  love. 

[Curio  laughs.} 

CURIO. 
Tell  me. 

ELSA. 

What? 

CURIO. 

Do  you  know  a  remedy  for  sorrow? 
[Elsa  again  nods  in  assent.] 

CURIO. 
What,  Elsa  ? 

ELSA. 

Let  me  see — Sorrow,  being  a  cat,  it  has  nine  lives.  Do 
with  sorrow  as  you  would  with  a  cat — drown  it ! 

CURIO. 

[Laughs]  You're  right,  Elsa.  Wine,  wine — death  to 
cat  sorrows;  eh,  Elsa?  Ha,  Ha,  Ha — Wine,  Elsa,  wine — 
[He  drinks  again]  I — alvays — sed — that — you — vas — 
pruty ;  very,  very  pruty ;  he,  he,  he, — ha,  ha,  ha — I — luf — 
you;  I — luf — you;  I  do.  [He  rushes  around  after  her. 
She  tries  to  avoid  him.] 

[Roland,  who  has  been  watching  the  surrounding  coun 
try,  casts  his  eyes  upon  the  drunken  Curio.  Roland  comes 
down  from  where  he  is.] 

ROLAND. 

Shame  upon  you !  Shame  upon  you !  Have  you  no  re 
spect  for  yourself  or  for  others? 

CURIO. 

Ha,  ha,  ha — [Turns  to  Roland  in  wonderment]  Thou 
art  turned — PREACHER  !  Ha,  ha — he,  he — 

[Roland  looks  contemptuously  at  him  and  walks  away 
in  disgust.] 

•  Ha — ha — ha — He  vould  like — to  have  you — himself,  but 
he  can't — because — I  luf  you.  I  want  to  kiss  you  and  hug 
you  tight.  [He  rocks  with  drunken  and  idiotic  laughter^] 


86  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

He  chases  her  about  the  stage  and  sinks  down  in  a  con 
venient  spot,  exhausted. 

[Bugle  call  heard  off  left.  The  sound  comes  from  the 
Rolandseck  side  of  the  river,  the  side  that  the  stage  repre 
sents.  The  auditor  hears  the  drum-call  "to  arms,"  distant 
commands,  etc.'] 

[ON  STAGE.] 

[KOLAND  on  elevation  up  center,  deeply  interested  in 
what  is  taking  place.  CURIO,  place  where  he  fell,  with  a 
glad  drunk,  rapidly  approaching  forgetfulness.  ELBA 
watches  Roland.  She  does  not  know  whether  to  go  or 
stay.] 

[OFF  STAGE.] 

Desultory  firing  from  right — far  in  the  distance.  It  is 
Roland's  out-posts  being  pressed  backward  by  the  enemy. 
Sharp,  decisive  bugle  call  heard  off  left.  This  is  from 
Roland's  camp — sound  of  sabers,  etc.  Enter  from  left  a 
trooper.  Before  he  enters  you  hear  the  hoof  beats  of  his 
horse,  and  when  the  horse  comes  to  a  standstill;  he  has 
dismounted  outside  and  then  entered,  laboring  under  great 
excitement.] 

TROOPER. 

[To  Roland]  It  is  the  Count  Falkenstein,  who  is  driv 
ing  back  our  advanced  post  at  Godesberg.  [Giving  mil 
itary  salute.] 

ROLAND. 

[Commandingly]  Signal  our  force  that  is  across  the 
river  at  Konigswinter,  to  march  opposite  Godesberg,  as 
has  already  been  decided  upon — leave  a  small  guard  there 
to  destroy  the  ferry — then,  to  cross  with  the  main  part  of 
their  force  to  Godesberg,  and  take  the  enemy  in  their  rear. 
We  shall  attack  them  in  front,  with  our  main  force;  but 
for  victory  we  must  depend  upon  the  party  in  their  rear. 
Go — lose  no  time — for  the  heart  and  soul  of  glory  is  in  a 
second's  breath. 

TROOPER. 

[Saluting  and  backing  out.]    I  humbly  take  my  leave ! 
[Exit  Trooper.] 


ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK.  87 

[OFF  STAGE.] 

Sharp  blast  from  bugle  off  left.  This  is  answered  im 
mediately,  by  the  sound  of  an  answering  bugle  from  the 
other  side  of  the  river.  This  signal  and  it's  answer  is  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  orders  of  Roland.] 

[Enter  from  right  Roland's  hard-pressed  pickets,  slowly 
retreating  before  Falkenstein's  advance.  They  seek  the 
surrounding  stones  and  trees  for  cover.  One  or  two  stagger 
in  mortally  wounded.  All  are  fighting  with  the  courage 
born  of  despair,  contesting  every  inch  of  ground.  Roland 
meanwhile  has  drawn  his  sword.  He  speaks  to  them  from 
the  depths  of  his  manhood~\ : 

ROLAND. 

Courage,  lads,  courage  !    A  story  with  every  bullet ! 

[The  eyes  of  the  retreating  men  seem  glued  upon  the  on 
coming  foe.  Roland's  men  grow  weaker.  Roland  goes 
among  them,  endeavoring  to  cheer  their  spirits.'] 

[With  passionate  strength  and  deep  feeling.'] 

For  all  that's  dear  to  us — 

For  our  sweethearts  and  our  wives — 

For  that  land  of  ours — 

For  that  God  of  ours — 

For  us  and  for  all  time.  Strike!  STRIKE  I  STRIKE'!  till 
the  last  drop  of  the  blood  of  life  has  painted  our  German 
soil.  Fight,  lads— FIGHT  !  FIGHT  ! 

[Off  left  the  sound  of  marching  men,  drums,  etc.,  are 
heard  again.]  [Enter  from  left  large  detachment  of  Ro 
land's  men.] 

[Between  the  outpost  retreating  from  right  and  the  men 
who  have  just  entered  from  left,  continues,  with  concen 
trated  enthusiasm]  Look  to  your  arms — the  enemy — the 
foe  is  on  the  soil;  we  shall  soon  meet  them — eye  to  eye — 
blade  to  blade.  For  us  there  is  no  DEATH — only  GLORY ! 
'Twas  on  this  sacred  ground,  my  countrymen,  that  MY 
father,  YOUR  fathers,  and  those  before  them,  lived  as  free 
men— SHALL  WE  BE  SLAVES?  No!  There  is  your 


88  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

answer !  [Pointing  off  right  towards  enemy']  'Tis  LIB 
ERTY  or  DEATH !  Be  the  heart  of  freedom's  sons  in  our 
voices  as  we  cry— "TO  ARMS  !" 

Forvarts  !     For  the  grand  Past  and  the  bright  Future  1 

Forvarts  !     The  invader  is  on  the  soil ! 

Strike,  swift  and  surely,  for  your  green  hills  and  rivers 
blue  !  Strike  for— THE  FATHERLAND  ! 

[Decisively-]     FORWARD— MARCH  !  !  ! 

The  pickets  who  have  retreated  from  the  right,  with  a 
yell,  bound  forward  to  the  charge,  like  tigers.  Roland  in 
the  midst  of  all,  encouraging  and  commanding.  The  yell 
is  taken  up  by  the  detachment  that  had  entered  from  the 
left.  They  all  exit  right.  A  steady  volley  from  the  enemy 
is  heard  off  right.  One  in  answer  from  Roland's  men.  Then 
desultory  firing  and  other  sounds  of  battle.'] 

\As  the  soldiers  are  leaving,  Elsa  runs  up  center  and 
takes  her  position  upon  the  rocky  elevation  there,  waving 
her  handkerchief.] 

[A  Pause]     [For  effect.'] 

ELSA. 

[Speaking  from  where  she  is~]  There  he  is — brave  as  a 
lion.  The  music  of  the  battle  has  made  a  giant  of  him. 
There,  right  in  the  midst  of  a  garden  of  swords.  They 
spring  upon —  He's  down  !  They  are  fighting  for  his  body ! 
[She  turns  away  horrified]  Oh,  horrible,  horrible ! 

[Roland  is  brought  in  by  two  soldiers,  one  on  either  side. 
He  comes  in  backwards,  his  eyes  turned  towards  the  sounds 
of  the  battle.  He  has  the  semblance  of  being  forced  to  re 
tire  from  the  action.  With  gentle  force  they  make  him 
recline  upon  a  boulder.] 

ROLAND. 

Leave  me,  friends!  You're  needed  at  the  front!  We 
can't  spare  the  strength  of  even  one  good  right  arm ! 

FIRST    SOLDIER. 

Let  us  remain  with  you;  you  need  our  aid. 


ROLAXD    OF    ROLANDSECK.  89 

ROLAND. 

[As  if  fascinated]  Yes,  I  need  your  aid!  There, 
there,  on  the  fighting  line — [Pointing]  Tell  your  com 
rades  there,  with  the  blood  from  their  left  arms  to  make  a 
bloody  boundary,  and  defend  it  with  their  right !  Go ! 

FIRST    SOLDIER. 

We  leave  you  much  against  our  will.     [Exit  soldiers.] 

ROLAND. 

Brave  lads.  [Soliloquizing].  World,  thou  art  indeed 
much  more  than  a  name !  See !  how  they  are  dealing  death 
blows  at  one  another,  and  for  whom — ME !  MB !  Ha,  ha, 
ha — ME  !  A  soldier  of  many  dreams — that's  all ! 

[Change  of  mood]  Oh,  for  the  strength  of  ten  men! 
f  Turning  away  ivith  a  sigh]  Ah !  the  sight  of  so  much  in 
nocent  blood  sickens  me. 

[He  perceives  for  the  first  time  Elsa]  Pray,  what  do 
you  there,  little  woman?  Perhaps  you  do  not  realize  it, 
but  you're  in  danger  where  you  are ! 

ELSA. 

[Coming  doivn]  Is  it  right  to  always  think  first  of 
others  ?  You  are  wounded,  too  ! 

ROLAND. 

Slightly ! 

[Elsa  starts  to  tear  her  apron,  to  be  used  as  bandages. 
He  talks  during  this  action.] 

We  advanced  in  the  face  of  a  merciless  fire.  I  was 
stunned  by  a  sudden  blow  from  behind — it  felled  me  to  the 
ground.  My  men  thought  that  I  was  killed;  both  sides 
fought  over  my  body — at  last  I  was  saved  from  being 
crushed  to  death — and — here  I  am. 

ELSA. 

[Bandaging  his  head]  I  wish  I  were  a  man  to  fight 
like  that ! 

ROLAND. 

Bravery  is  a  hollow  mockery,  little  woman !  How  many 
men  outlive  the  memory  of  their  own  generation!  Who 


93  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

will  ever  hear  of  me  ?  Nobody  !  Those  poor  misguided 
fellows  out  there  cut  each  other's  throats,  and  enjoy  it,  too 
— and  who  will  ever  hear  of  them?  Nobody!  But  you, 
you  women,  with  your  pity — your  soothing,  ministering 
touch — your  love — 'tis  you,  and  you  alone,  who  are  the  sol 
diers  of  the  Lord. 

[New  mood]  We  men  gamble  with  your  lives  and  you 
women  watch  over  us !  You  forgive  us  our  faults ;  you 
praise  us  for  virtues  that  we  lack,  and  you  ask  from  us  no 
reward ;  and  when  we  give  in  return  just  one  little  word  of 
kindness  you  smile  sadly  as  if  you  knew,  and  say  no  word 
in  return,  only, — your  eyes  are  filled  with  joy ! 

[A  pause.] 

[Elsa  has  finished  bandaging  his  head,  during  the  fore 
going  speech.  The  fighting  has  grown  less  and  less,  but 
all  of  a  sudden  it  increases  in  volume.] 

[Gratefully]  Thank  you.  Do  you  think  you  could  tell 
me  what  is  taking  place? 

[Elsa  nods  her  head  and  does  his  bidding]  [She  goes 
up  stage  and  mounts  the  rocky  eminence  as  before. 

What  do  you  see  ? 

[A  shout  from  off  right.     Cries  of  alarm,  etc.] 

ELSA. 

Everything  is  in  confusion !  Your  soldiers  have  made 
the  enemy  retire ! 

ROLAND. 

[Becoming  animated]  Gallant  lads ;  I  knew  they  would ! 

ELSA. 

They  seem  to  be  waiting  for  something — 
[A  volley  off  right.] 
The  enemy  are  charging  upon  them. 

ROLAND. 

[Becoming  more  animated]     Yes,  yes. 


A'OLAA7/)    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  91 

ELSA. 

They  stand  fast no,  they  are    breaking — they    are 

coming  towards  us,  step  by  step,  but  always  back;  every 
inch  a  life. 

[Shouts  heard  off  right  as  before,  coming  from  Falken- 
stein's  men.] 

ROLAND. 

[To  himself]    Oh,  will  it  never  end  ? 

[To  Elsa]  I've  heard  enough  already !  This  is  my 
cue  to  die — They've  given  me  my  last  part  to  play — I 
shall  do  it  well !  Come,  little  woman,  save  yourself  while 
there  is  yet  time — tell  your  mistress  for  me  that  my  last 
breath  was  for  her — tell  her  that  before  the  end  came,  I 
had  hoped  in  some  way  to  have  taken  the  place  to-night  of 
Falken stein — that  to-night  she  would  have  been  my  wife 
instead  of  his,  but  that  God  willed  it  otherwise.  Bid  her 
live,  and  forget  a  man  who  was  not  worthy  of  her.  [He 
almost  breaks  down  completely.] 

[A  bugle  call  far  off  right  sounding  the  charge.  Roland 
listens  and  his  face  lights  up  with  hope.] 

My  God!  What's  that? 

[Elsa  with  lightning-like  rapidity  dashes  up  to  the  ele 
vation  and  looks  off  right  with  all  her  eyes.] 

ELSA. 
They're  flying  for  their  lives ! 

ROLAND. 

[Wildly]    Who,  who's  flying,— who  ? 

ELSA. 

The  enemy! 

ROLAND. 

[Sinks  down  exhausted;  speaking  out  of  the  depths] 
Thanks  be  to  Thee,  Great  Sovereign,  thanks ! 

ELSA. 
They  come  this  way. 

[Alonso  enters,  with  his  cheering  followers.] 


92  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

ROLAND. 

[Going  to  meet  him — takes  his  hand  without  speaking J\ 

[Picture.'} 
Bravo,  my  friend.    'Twas  well  done ! 

ALONSO. 

[Turning  to  Mordecai,  who  ha-s  entered  with  the  rest 
and  who  has  stood  modestly  to  one  side]  I  wish  to  point 
out  to  you  a  brave  man.  He  did  much  to  gain  the  vic 
tory. 

ROLAND. 

My  hand.     [H e  offers  if}     [Mordecai  takes  it  and  says : 

MORDECAI. 
And  your  heart? 

ROLAND. 

They  go  together. 

[Continues  ivith  interest]       Are  you  not  a  stranger  to 

these  parts  ? 

MORDECAI. 

I  am.  I  have  no  home,  Sir  Knight.  There  is  no  place 
I  can  call  a  home,  except — perhaps — in  the  bosom  of  my 
persecutors — there  I  have  a  place. 

[Roland's  men  group  themselves  round  about,  showing 
an  interest  in  what  is  taking  place.] 

ROLAND. 

Tell  us  of  your  name  and  country. 

MORDECAI. 

[Quietly]  [With  feeling]  My  name,  Sir  Knight? 
Once  it  was  an  honored  one;  that  was  many  years  ago — 
now,  alas,  it's  the  poor  smile-maker,  the  butt  for  scorn.  I 
am  of  that  race  upon  whose  fallen  splendor  the  Church  of 
Christ  has  reared  its  mighty  Citadel.  [With  a  gesture  of 
suffering,  but  with  quiet  naturalness]  Misery !  How  I've 
grown  to  love  thee!  Thy  place  is  here!  Over  me  thou 
hast  spread  thy  garment,  till  like  the  wandering  caravan 
of  the  desert,  I  pause  at  some  oasis,  drinking  greedily  the 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  93 

beautiful,  soothing,  crystal  drops  that  wash  the  thirst 
away !  I  do  not  know  why,  that  of  all  men,  I  and  my 
race,  are  treated  as  we  are.  You  say,  "because  we  are 
Jews."  It  is  no  fault  of  ours !  And  is  it  a  fault  to  be  a 
Jew!  No,  Sir  Knight!  It  is  no  fault  to  stand  at  bay 
against  an  overwhelming  host,  and  to  laugh  at  them  all ! 
Ah,  it's  grand  to  laugh  the  world  in  the  face — to  say  to  it, 
boldly,  triumphantly  as  WE  do — [Subdued  intensity] 
"World,  thou  hast  no  terrors  for  us,  we  stand  alone,  and  die 
as  we  stand!  What  are  your  instruments  of  torture, 
made  to  tear  and  rack  our  bodies; — they  are  good  for 
naught,  for  we  defy  them  all !  The  more  you  crush  us,  the 
stronger  grows  our  will !  WE  LOVE  GOD  !  WHOM  ELSE 

SHOULD  WE  OBEY? 

ROLAND. 

[From  the  depths  of  his  soul]     None  else ! 

[As  he  has  said  this  he  has  stepped  forward  and  has 
grasped  Mordecai's  hand.  This  is  done  as  if  by  impulse. 
They  stand  looking  into  each  other's  eyes.  From  the  Con 
vent  of  Nonnenwerth  is  heard  the  sound  of  an  organ,  and  a 
choir  of  sweet  girlish  voices.  All  on  the  stage  listen  in 
tently,  each  with  different  feelings.  Some  of  the  rude  sol 
diers  sink  on  one  Icnee,  one  by  one  their  caps  are  removed 
— the  music  carries  Mordecai  away — the  music  ceases;  i.  e., 
— the  voices  first  and  then  the  music,  with  a  few  grand 
chords.] 

[NOTE — The  Convent  of  Nonnenwerth  is  on  an  island  in 
the  middle  of  the  Rhine.  It  is  a  picturesque  building  dat 
ing  back  as  far  as  the  twelfth  century.] 

[After  the  music  ceases,  there  is  a  slight  pause.] 

MORDECAI. 

[As  if  inspired]  Oh,  bountiful  Providence — still  the 
copious  pain !  Let  the  Godhead  face  the  Kingdom  of 
Eeconciliation  !  One  in  All,  All  in  One !  ! 

[Music  in  Orchestra.] 

[Mordecai  becomes  suddenly  transfixed  as  if  with  hor 
ror.] 


94  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

I  hear  the  dreaded  charge !  Heretic !  Heretic !  The 
rude  awakening,,  the  thirsting  stake,  the  fiendish  yells,  the 
piercing  death  cry,  the  fiery  entry  into  the  world  beyond ! 

[He  recovers  somewhat,  and  draws  himself  up  proudly 
to  his  full  height.] 

A  thousand  winters  we  have  fretted  at  the  bit !  Kein, 
drawn  tight,  lash,  fetted  and  unstrung — its  steely  venom 
hath  driven  us  asunder — that  once  noble  tribe,  whose  Cap 
tain  was  the  Lord  Jehovah ! 

[A  film  seems  to  pass  over  his  eyes.  He  becomes  for 
getful  of  his  surroundings;  as  he  conjures  up  to  his  mind's 
eye  the  suffering  of  his  proud  race]  Scattered  far  o'er  the 
earth's  face — all  for  a  deed  of  destruction — committed 
long,  long  ago,  when  the  world  was  barbarous  and  oppres 
sive  !  Tens  of  thousands  of  lives,  wearing  the  badge  of 
misfortune — dejected,  wretched,  gloomy;  a  band  of  endur 
ing  martyrs;  crucified,  not  once,  but  a  thousand  times; 
bleeding  from  many  wounds;  from  those  that  call  them 
selves  Christians ! 

ROLAND. 

[Goes  up  to  Mordecai  and  takes  his  hand  kindly,  almost 
fatherly.  He  looks  him  in  the  eye  again  ivith  an  un 
spoken  God-like  humanity,  full  of  the  milk  of  human 
kindness.  There  is  a  peculiar  smile  on  Roland's  face,  one 
of  suffering  humility.  Mordecai  reads  the  message  from 
Roland's  eyes  and  with  a  sigh  lets  his  head  sink  upon  his 
breast.  Roland  continues  for  some  time  to  look  at  his 
friend.] 

[Music  is  heard  again  from  the  Convent  of  Nonnen- 
werth.  This  time  only  beautiful  chords — music  gradually 
dies  away  upon  the  breeze.] 

[Slowly]  On  that  lovely  music  ascends  our  love  to 
Heaven ! 

[That  which  he  speaks  next  is  a  laconic  soldier  prayer] 
[All  treat  it  as  such]  Please  God,  that  some  day,  the 
souls  of  men  join  themselves  together  and  blot  out  from 
the  earth  things  that  all  mankind  should  shudder  at.  So 
says  Roland.  One  God,  one  religion,  one  people ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  96 

SOLDIERS. 


Amen. 


[A  bugle  call  is  heard  from  off  right,  also  the  tramp  of 
marching  men.] 

ROLAND. 

What  is  that  noise,  Alonso? 

ALONSO. 

Have  you  forgotten  that  we  have  taken  some  prisoners, 
Captain  ? 

ROLAND. 

I  had  forgot  the  prize,  but  not  the  deed. 

ALONSO. 
[Smiling']     You  are  too  kind ! 

ROLAND. 

What  manner  of  man  is  he  ?  Does  he  wear  his  thoughts 
upon  his  sleeve,  or  is  he  a  man  full  of  hidden  meaning — 
tell  me? 

ALONSO. 

He  is  deep,  Captain;  sullen,  too.  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  him  some  years  ago,  and  from  what  I  knew  of 
him  then,  I  should  judge  him  to  be  a  man  somewhat  in 
clined  towards  rashness;  still,  you  will  find  him  cautious, 
no  doubt.  They  tell  me  he  nurses  some  great  ambition — 
and  besides,  I've  found  him  to  be  as  cutting  as  the  wind — 

ROLAND. 

[Smiling]  That  passess  harmlessly.  [They  both 
laugh]  I  thank  you.  I  promise  to  be  guided  to  some  ex 
tent  by  your  picture  of  the  man  in  question,  but  see,  he 
comes — 

[Enter  soldiers  with  Falkenstein]  [The  stage  rapidly 
becomes  filled  with  armed  men.  They  form  themselves 
into  picturesque  groups]  [Falkenstein  down  right]  [Ro 
land  center]  [Alonso  a  little  to  Roland's  right]  [Mor- 
decai  left  center,  a  little  down  stage]  [Roland  and  Fal 
kenstein  eye  each  oilier  keenly,  as  if  they  could  discern  each 
other's  thoughts.] 


96  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

I'm  truly  sorry  that  you  are  obliged  to  sup  with  me  to 
night.  Believe  me,  I  do  not  speak  disparagingly  of  your 
company,  but  I  have  in  mind  that  it  is  due  to  no  willing 
ness  on  your  part  that  we  meet  as  we  do  now. 

FALKENSTEIN. 

[A  trifle  sarcastic}  I  dine  in  pleasant  company,  I  as 
sure  you. 

ROLAND. 

I  admit  it  is  not  as  pleasant  as  in  the  society  of  the  mpst 
lovely  Hildegunde;  but  take  us  for  all  in  all,  we  are  a  jo 
vial  lot ;  good  fellows,  I  assure  you — a  king  could  not  wish 
for  more ! 

FALKENSTEIN. 

[Coldly']  [With  a  touch  of  sarcastic  defiance]  All 
but  yourself !  Nature  made  you  a  fool,  and  what  Nature 
makes  endures  forever. 

ROLAND. 

[Smoothly,  with  sangfroid]  Ah !  good  Falkenstein,  you 
do  me  wrong ;  indeed,  you  do  me  wrong ! 

FALKENSTEIN. 

Nothing  offends  my  eyes  to  a  greater  degree  than  your 
unworthy  self.  You — mocker  of  liberty — you  dema 
gogue  ! 

ROLAND. 

[Stroking  his  chin  with  his  right  hand  and  smiling  to 
himself]  Oh,  so — 

FALKENSTEIN. 

[Angered  more  ~by  the  manner  of  Roland]  You  vile 
snake !  You — 

ROLAND. 
[As  before]     So,  I  am  a  snake,  am  I?     [He  laughs.] 

FALKENSTEIN. 

Yes,  a  snake  !    A  snake  is  a  thing  that  creeps — YOU  creep. 

ROLAND. 

[Breaking  out  passionately]  Aye,  you  fool;  I  am  a 
snake,  with  you ;  I  creep  like  a  snake,  with  YOU  !  But  be 
ware  of  my  fangs;  YOU — [Pointing.] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  97 

FALKENSTEIN. 

Ha,  ha — your  fangs — Ha,  ha  ! 

ROLAND. 

Aye,  I  say — my  fangs !  [He  puts  his  hand  menacingly 
on  his  sword]  You — you  would  rob  me  of  the  woman  I 
love,  you; — I'll  tear  your  heart  out!  [Continues  with  re 
newed  energy'}  YOU  fool — idiot — knave!  You  come 
here  as  if  by  contract,  as  if  she  were  some  chattel  to  be  bar 
tered  for!  [Continues  sarcastically]  You!  You  would 
spoil  the  unsullied  jewel !  Would  rob  her  of  her  richness 
— her  love!  [Gives  a  terrible  laugh  and  continues  with 
fiery  eloquence]  Base,  ignoble  villain;  death's  too  good 
— dungeon  a  palace — hell  a  paradise — for  such  as  YOU! 

[Falkenstein  laughs  coldly.  Roland  looks  at  him  from 
top  to  toe.] 

Have  you  no  shame! 

Have  you  no  pity ! 

Is  there  nothing  gentle  in  your  breast — nothing ! 

Are  you  made  of  stone?    Answer  me? 

[Roland's  men  make  a  motion  as  if  to  seize  him]  [Ro 
land  stays  his  men,  with  a  gesture.] 

[Composedly]  No — my  friends — forbear;  this  man  is 
our  prisoner;  we  must  deal  fairly  with  him,  give  him  all 
the  justice  that  is  his  due ! 

[To  Falkenstein]  See,  even  we  outcasts  have  what  we 
call  a  code  of  honor  of  our  own. 

FALKENSTEIN. 

[With  sarcasm]  Such  honor  and  manliness  as  you  dis 
play  would  make  pity  accessible  even  to  a  heart — of — 
"stone." 

ROLAND. 

[With  penetration]     Is  it  your  own  heart  you  speak  of? 

FALKENSTEIN. 

[Laughing  lightly]  No,  my  heart  is  of  steel — I  wear 
it,  always  handy.  [Touches  his  sword]  'Tis  a  good 
sword;  at  least — others — have — said — so.  [Suggestively] 

[Roland  ignores  the  suggestive  remark.] 


98  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

ROLAND. 

[Trying  to  become  familiar]  Come,  Falkenstein,  be 
fair  with  me;  tell  me  for  what  purpose  you  came  here; 
surely  it  was  for  something  else  than  marrying  a  woman 
you've  never  set  eyes  on?  Come,  tell  me  frankly — will 
you? 

FALKENSTEIN. 

Frankly — yes !  A  man  were  a  fool  indeed  to  do  kTight  in 
this  life,  without  a  purpose  in  view;  I  love  but  to  gain  an 
end !  Fm  not  that  man  who  resigns  himself  unto  the 
dreary  list  of  baffled  aspirations;  and  so,  since  you  have 
asked  me,  I'll  tell  you,  and  if  I  can  gain  this  end  through 
you,  well  and  good;  if  not — [8hrugs  his  shoulders']  'Tis 
but  a  MASK — this  professed  liberty ! 

[Roland's  men  make  another  and  more  violent  move 
ment  to  attack  Falkenstein.  Roland  divines  their  inten 
tion  and  stays  them  with  his  hand.  The  same  hand  used 
in  this  gesture  falls  with  decision  upon  the  hilt  of  his 
sword,  and  he  fixes  his  eyes  upon  Falkenstein.  Roland's 
men  fall  back  and  form  a  circle.  Roland  and  Falkenstein 
draw  swords.  They  circle  round,  their  eyes  fixed  on  each 
other  like  two  wrestlers  playing  for  a  hold.  Falkenstein 
comes  to  a  stand.] 

Before  we  fight  I  beg  of  you  but  one  brief  moment — 
perhaps  it  will  be  my  last.  It  will  do  you  no  harm,  and 
me,  me, — well,  may  be,  just  a  little  good.  I  have  seen  a 
strange  light  in  your  eyes,  a  light  I  have  never  seen  in  any 
man's  before ;  methinks  it  betokens  no  good  for  me !  I've 
lived  a  reckless  life,  and  this  perhaps  is  a  fitting  close  to 
it.  The  name  of  God  has  never  passed  my  lips  in  years. 
[Eyes  Heavenward.~\  I  repent  me  of  my  sins  and  by  my 
repentance  may  I  merit  a  share  of  Your  mercy ! 

[To  Roland]   I  am  ready,  if  you  are  !     [Pauses  slightly.] 

Roland — I  acknowledge  you  to  be  a  true    gentleman; 

your  cause,  a  glorious  cause;  would  that  I  had  known  it 

sooner!     And  now,  by  your  leave,  we  shall  put  our  skill 

to  the  test ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  99 

ROLAND. 

And  by  your  leave,  Sir  Knight,  I  shall  show  you  how  a 
man  battles  for  liberty  and  for  the  honor  of  the  woman 
he  loves ! 

[They  salute  and  engage]  [A  fierce  encounter  ensues] 
[During  this,  first  one  then  the  other  gets  the  better.  Ro- 
land  beats  down  Falkenstein's  guard  and  runs  him  through. 
He  stands  over  Falkenstein,  after  the  deed  is  done,  with 
something  akin  to  pity.]  [A  pause]  [Then  Roland  mo 
tions  his  men  to  carry  the  body  away.] 

[With  feeling]     Give  to  him  a  soldier's  burial. 

[Exit  some  with  body  of  Falkenstein,  borne  in  state. 
Slow  music.  Soldiers  uncover  their  heads.] 

[Roland  stands  in  the  center  of  the  stage,  leans  upon  Jiis 
sword  and  looks  into  vacancy.  All  gather  around  him, 
waiting  for  him  to  speak]  [A  pause.] 

[Raises  his  head  slowly  and  with  a  peculiar  ring  in  his 
voice  says :  To-night,  to-night ! 

CURTAIN. 


THE  FIFTH  ACT 


ACT  V. 

SCENE  1. 

Public  Square  of  Honnef. 

NOTE — Honnef  lies  in  a  charming  valley.  The  valley 
is  surrounded  by  the  Drachenfels,  Wolkenburg  and  the 
Tree  Clad  Lowenberg.  The  lovely  situation  of  the  little 
town  has  won  for  it  the  name  of  "The  Garden  of  the 
Seven  Mountains/'  In  these  days  it  had  for  its  popula 
tion  in  the  neighborhood  of  5,000  inhabitants.  In  the 
days  of  which  we  write,  the  little  town  of  Honnef  was 
considered  a  city  of  some  importance.  The  streets  are 
quaint — the  buildings  picturesque.  The  Square  in  which 
this  scene  passes  is  lined  on  either  side  by  little  shops. 
On  the  right  hand  side  is  a  small  church.  The  church 
has  an  entrance  on  the  Square,  with  steps  leading  down  to 
the  Square,  and  a  platform  on  which  a  few  people  can 
stand  comfortably.  The  doors  open  inward  and  outward. 
Beautiful  stained  glass  above  the  door.  One  obtains  a  per 
spective  of  the  streets  leading  to  the  Square.  Flags  and 
banners  are  flying  from  the  different  houses.  The  bell  of 
the  church  tolls. 

Up  left  third  entrance  there  is  an  arch  through  which 
the  people  enter  from  that  side.  This  arch  is  decorated 
with  flags,  and  the  shields  of  different  principalities, 
knights,  etc.  The  village  people  enter.  It  is  a  holiday 
— called  "Kurmess." 

Kurmess  is  an  ancient  custom  in  all  the  wine  districts 
of  Germany, — a  day  set  apart  to  celebrate,  before  making 
the  wine.  Every  one  is  in  jovial  spirits. 

Curtain  rises  and  discovers  the  stage  as  above  men 
tioned.  Before  the  entrance  of  the  people,  there  have 


104  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

been  various  groups  already  on  the  scene.  These  groups 
are  in  different  stages  of  animation;  some  are  discussing 
politics  of  the  day,  some  of  the  nation,  and  some  their 
own  private  affairs. 

When  the  curtain  rises  the  scene  becomes  active,  and 
the  action  clean  cut. 

GROUP  NO.  1. 

Peasants  sitting  on  tables  and  on  steps  of  shops.  Some 
laugh,  others  smoke  long  Tyrolean  pipes,  still  others  are 
partaking  of  wine.  Flower  girls  pass  among  them,  smil 
ing  gaily  and  distributing  their  wares.  There  are  some 
girls  in  the  laps  of  the  country  gallants. 

A  party  of  peasants  and  merchants  of  Honnef,  strang 
ers,  etc.,  cross  the  stage  and  enter  the  church.  An  old 
crony  sits  on  the  steps  of  the  church.  She  is  approached 
by  a  flashing,  beautiful  peasant  girl;  pantomimically  the 
old  crony  tells  this  peasant  girl  her  fortune.  The  girl 
smiles  at  the  prediction. 

GROUP  NO.  2. 

Two  middle-aged  men  are  seated  at  a  game  of  cards. 
They  are  watched  by  some  of  the  younger  ones. 

GROUP  NO.    3. 

A  few  of  the  younger  bloods  are  shaking  dice  in  a  cor 
ner. 

GROUP    NO    4. 

Two  handsome  swashbucklers,  full  of  the  dust  of 
travel,  are  fencing,  up  right  center. 

GROUP  NO.  5. 

A  handsome  gallant  lunges  with  his  sword  at  a  target 
he  has  picked  out  with  his  eye. 

GROUP  NO.  6. 

A  clownish-looking  villager  is  juggling  beer  mugs  in 
an  out-of-the-way  corner. 

Lively  music.     Laughter. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  105 

The  main  incident  in  the  foreground,  as  the  curtain 
rises,  is  a  beautiful  dancing  girl,  a  gypsy.  She  is  very 
much  disheveled,  and  dances  wildly,  losing  herself  in  her 
art.  Her  strolling  companions,  a  rather  homely  gypsy 
girl,  and  two  handsome  young  gypsies — one  of  the  latter 
plays  upon  the  mandolin,  the  other  upon  the  guitar.  All 
the  onlookers  in  the  foreground  applaud  her  dancing  vig 
orously.  She  continues  to  dance  a  little  while,  then 
strikes  an  attitude  of  triumph,  conscious  of  her  success. 
All  applaud  this  attitude.  She  sits  on  the  table,  with  one 
leg  dangling  over,  lights  a  cigarette  and  ogles  the  men — 
some  of  these  approach  her.  She  mischievously  blows 
smoke  in  their  faces.  They  take  it  as  a  joke  and  laugh. 

An  old  man  enters  from  left  third  entrance,  crosses  the 
stage  diagonally  and  enters  the  church.  As  the  door  of 
the  church  opens,  organ  music  is  heard,  and  ceases  as  the 
door  is  closed. 

The  two  swashbucklers,  up  right  third  entrance,  have, 
become  very  much  excited.  They  go  at  it  hard.  The 
one  furthest  up  stage  presses  the  other  one  down  stage 
diagonally  to  left  first  entrance.  When  down  left  first 
entrance  the  younger  man  makes  a  stand  and  duels  for 
his  life.  He  disarms  his  older  opponent.  All  the  younger 
bystanders  on  the  scene  applaud  him  and  cry  "BRAVO/' 

The  young  duelist,  flushed  with  triumph,  crosses  over 
to  the  gypsy  girl  seated  on  the  table,  and  addresses  her 
amorously. 

DUELIST. 

May  I  claim  a  kiss? 

[Gypsy  girl  presents  her  lips  and  he  kisses  her]     Ah ! 

GYPSY    GIRL. 

Another  if  you  like.  [He  kisses  her  again,  and  we  leave 
them  engaged  in  conversation.] 

[The  revelers  laugh  heartily.  The  gypsy  girl  jumps 
down  from  the  table  and  dances  wildly  to  the  middle  of 
the  stage.  One  of  her  companions  urges  her  on,  while 
the  other  plays  with  wild  enthusiasm,  the  tune  to  which 


106  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

she  dances.  The  whole  populace  catch  from  her  the 
fever  of  the  dance.  They  form  a  ring  around  her.  Catchy 
music.] 

[Enter  Curio.  He  enters  from  arch  up  left  third  en 
trance.  Curio  impresses  all  with  his  self-conscious  pomp. 
The  dancers  stop.  They  exclaim :  "Ah !" 

CURIO. 

Tis  I,  Curio,  the  Great!     [All  laugh.] 

VOICE   FROM   CROWD. 

I  say,  give  us  a  tune. 

CURIO. 
What  shall  it  be? 

VOICE   FROM   CROWD. 

Anything — something,  so  long  'tis  merry. 

CURIO. 

[Takes  instrument  from  one  of  the  gypsies]  Well, 
then,  here's  one: 

"I  want  thee,  my  darling, 

I  want  no  renown. 
If  thou  thy  love  bring, 

Then  scorn  to  a  crown/' 


[Strikes  an  attitude  and  with  open  arms  gazes  at  the 
psy  girl.     All  laugh.     Curio  g 
they  form  a  circle  around  him.] 


gypsy  girl.     All  laugh.     Curio  goes  among  the  women — 
the 


^Oh,  sweet  charming  sirens, 

Come,  list  to  my  lay — 
Love  my  heart  rends, 

I  am,  dears,  thy  prey." 

[Kisses  one  after  another.  As  he  does  so  he  says  to  the 
first]  "Thy  kiss  is  sweeter  than  liberty." 

[As  he  kisses  the  second]  "And  thine,  darling,  is  like 
a  tear  in  the  eye  of  Venus." 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  107 

[As  he  kisses  the  third — an  ugly  one}  "Thine,  sweet 
heart — [he  pauses  comically'] — is  like  a  sour  grape." 

[As  he  kisses  the  fourth]  "Ah,  thine,  thine — with  thy 
kiss  I  can  ring  the  bell-rope  of  Heaven." 

[They  all  laugh  and  form  into  a  group  around  him.'] 

[Down  left  first  entrance.  A  man  and  his  wife,  shab 
bily  clothed.  The  woman  carries  a  babe  in  her  arms.] 

WIFE. 

[Tearfully]  The  little  one  is  cold.  Poor  little  thing 
— it  has  to  suffer  for  the  misfortune  of  its  parents. 

HUSBAND. 

[Gloomily]  So's  the  world,  Annie.  It's  not  balanced 
right. 

WIFE. 

[Quietly]  For  pity's  sake,  John,  get  us  something  to 
eat. 

HUSBAND. 

How?  How?  Should  I  go  and  beg?  Me,  beg?  Me? 
I'd  sooner  starve !  [He  laughs  with  a  touch  of  imbecil 
ity.] 

WIFE. 

[Coaxingly]  Ah,  John — the  child —  [Tearfully] 
John — the  child — our  child — John  ! 

[She  looks  at  the  little  one  tenderly,  hugs  it  to  her  bosom 
and  almost  whispers  to  herself]  MY  child !  MY  child ! 

HUSBAND. 

[With  his  throat  dry  and  his  voice  hard  and  cold]  Look, 
wife,  look !  [Points  to  group] .  See  how  merry  they  are. 

WIFE. 

[Sorrowfully]     And  how  hungry  we  are! 
[They  have  occupied  the  corner  down  left,  and  sustain 
by  their  presence  the  tragic  end  of  the  situation.] 

[Music.] 

[Enter  through  archway  up  third  entrance  a  bevy  of 
pretty  girls,  all  dressed  in  white.  They  bear  the  branches 


108  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

of  the  vine  over  their  heads;  i.  e.,  an  end  in  each  hand. 
The  leaves  of  the  vine  are  entwined  in  their  hair.  They 
dance  a  few  figures  to  music,  and  then  mingle  with  the 
assembled  people.  All  laugh  and  do  various  pantomime.'} 

[Enter  Roland  and  Mordecai  down  left  first  entrance. 
They  come  into  the  scene  a  few  paces.  Roland  is  dressed 
in  sombre  black.  His  face  is  pale.  Mordecai  is  attired 
in  somewhat  the  same  manner. 

After  the  laughter  from  the  merry-makers  has  subsided; 
the  wife  in  the  tragic  episode  advances  to  Roland.  She 
still  carries  the  child  in  her  arms.] 

[With  motherly  feeling]  Can  yon  give  me  a  trifle,  sir! 
I  do  not  beg  for  myself.  It  is  this  poor  child — it's  hun- 
gry.  Fm  only  a  mother,,  and  a  mother  always  loves  her 
child  better  than  herself ....  please .  . 

ROLAND. 

[Giving  money]  Take  this  for  the  little  one.  Here's 
some,  too,  for  yourself. 

[John  and  his  wife  walk  off  stage.] 

[To  Mordecai]  Is  it  not  sad,  Mordecai,  that  there  are 
some  who  live  in  the  lap  of  luxury,  while  others,  less  for 
tunate,  are  in  need  of  the  mere  necessities  of  life? 

[Peasants  laugh  loudly.] 

[To  Mordecai].  Come,  Mordecai,  let  us  go;  this  mer 
riment  grates  upon  me. 

[Peasants  dance  wildly.  They  chant  a  sort  of  Bacchic 
song.  Roland  and  Mordecai  are  about  to  leave  when  the 
shrill  sound  of  a  Herald's  trumpet  is  heard  from  off  left. 
When  this  is  heard,  the  dance  is  at  its  height.  Enter  Her 
ald,  two  trumpeters  on  each  side  of  him,  from  arch  up 
left.-] 

HERALD. 

[After  being  announced  by  the  two  trumpeters]  A 
party  of  Barons,  rulers  of  our  land,  hither  come.  Bow  ye 
in  homage  to  their  will. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  109 

[The  peasants  still  dance.  Enter  a  party  of  soldiers 
through  arch  up  left — they  roughly  make  a  path  through 
the  people.  One  or  two  of  the  soldiers  grab  a  pretty  girl. 
The  women  run  off  shrieking.  The  stage  rapidly  fills 
with  excited  peasants  and  villagers.  Martial  music.  Af 
ter  this  a  party  of  Barons,  Barons  Waldemar  and  Hoff 
mann  at  their  head,  march  across  the  stage  from  arch  up 
left  diagonally  to  right  first  entrance.  The  soldiers  push 
the  people  back.  The  principal  Barons  are  mounted  and 
gorgeously  dressed.  They  are  in  pairs  and  chat  as  if 
they  were  at  home  before  a  good  fire  and  a  still  better  glass 
of  wine.  They  exit.  The  soldiers,  who  have  held  back 
the  people,  taunt  them  as  they  follow  their  masters.  The 
people  growl  angrily.  The  growl  rises  to  a  steady  mur 
mur.  A  cloud  has  settled  down  upon  the  populace.  Dur 
ing  this  scene  Roland  has  been  standing  down  left,  Mor- 
decai  by  his  side.  They  have  been  absorbed  in  what  has 
taken  place.] 

ROLAND. 

[Half  to  himself  and  half  to  Mordecai]  Oh,  Spirit  of 
Creation,  thou  hast  indeed  made  men  of  milk  and  water ; 
creatures  with  souls  steeped  in  fear !  [To  Mordecai,  but 
really  intended  for  the  mob]  Such  a  difference  in  the 
past.  Oh,  if  I  had  only  the  power  to  crush  this  race  of 
bondsmen !  The  love  I  bear  my  country  revolts  to  see 
them  breathe  a  progeny,  partakers  of  what  they  deem  a 
virtue.  (MEANING  SUBMISSION.) 

[Cries  of  amazement  from  the  mob]  [Roland  grows 
in  power  and  intensity']  Such  a  change  from  the  past, 
Mordecai !  Years  long  since  laid  aside  on  the  shelf  of 
time,  dead,  but  living  still  in  memory,  eternally  glorified. 

[More  cries  of  execration  from  the  mob.  Roland  now 
almost  wholly  addresses  them.  His  oratory  becomes  of 
the  mob-inspired  sort]  The  watch-fires  of  liberty  shown 
like  pearly  gems  from  the  majestic  tops  of  the  vine-clad 
mountains;  the  people  erect,  stately,  proud;  that  was  an 
age,  blazoned  as  sacred; — free  was  the  land,  the  people, 
too,  were  free ! 

[Roland  turns  on  them  and  points  with  his  finger  at 
them,  meanwhile  speaking  to  Mordecai.]  See,  see,  Morde- 


110  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

cai;  see  those  dumb  graveling  things.  Every  smile  has 
its  inward  curse.  A  Race  of  Bondsmen ! 

[The  mob  surges  with  cries  of  execration.  Roland  takes 
advantage  of  a  passage  that  is  open  in  their  midst,  and, 
with  rapid  strides,  crosses  the  stage  to  the  steps  of  the 
church,  and  takes  his  stand  upon  the  platform  there.  The 
crowd  surge  towards  him,  crying  "HE  CALLED  us  BONDS 
MEN."  Others  yell  wildly.  Roland  speaks  to  them  when 
their  clamor  has  reached  its  height]  Yes,  I  called  ye 
bondsmen,  and  bondsmen  ye  will  remain ! 

[They  are  astonished  and  become  silent  for  a  moment, 
but  their  silence  is  worse  than  their  storm']  [A  voice 
calls  out  from  the  mob — "DOWN,  DOWN  WITH  THE  TY 
RANT/' 

[With  lightning  glibness,  answers']  Yes,  down  with  the 
tyrant.  Would  that  I  were  a  tyrant ;  but  no,  I'm  that  poor 
thing  they  term  a  patriot,  and  in  this  age  they  are  even 
more  to  be  despised  than  tyrants ! 

[Cries  of  "KILL  HIM/'  mingled  with  those  of  "NO,  NO"] 
[8ome,  more  frantic  than  the  rest,  try  to  make  a  passage 
and  to  assault  Roland.  A  free  fight  ensues.] 

Friends,  friends,  I  implore  you,  hear  me,  for  God's  sake, 
hear  me ! 

[A  ruffian,  held  by  a  few  of  the  more  kindly  spirits,  tries 
to  attack  Roland;  not  succeeding,  he  yells  at  him, — LIAR, 

THIEF,  THIEF."] 

[Mordecai  springs  at  him  and  succeeds  in  clearing  a 
space  around  Roland.  During  the  foregoing  scene,  Morde 
cai  has  mingled  with  the  mob,  awaiting  the  right  moment 
to  lend  Roland  his  aid.] 

MORDECAI. 

Stand  back,  I  say — LET  him  speak! 
[A  pause.] 

[Grumblingly  they  all  look  towards  Roland.  Roland 
collects  himself  and  says  with  intense  suppressed  passion-. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  Ill 

ROLAND. 

There  are  those  among  you  who  suffer ;  to  those  I  say — 
that  I,  too,  suffer.  Know  that  were  my  death  an  end  to 
smooth  one  wrinkle  from  your  burdened  brows  I  would 
yield  up  my  life  with  joy.  What?  You  will  not  listen 
to  me — do  I  speak  then,  to  men  of  stone  ? 

[To  himself]  Oh !  now  could  I  weep  tears  of  blood ! 
Oh,  that  I  should  outlive  the  hour  when  liberty  is  liberty 
no  more!  [All  sullen]  Men,  of  the  Germanland — nay, 
not  that — not  while  your  swords  are  rusted  to  the  scab 
bards  !  Not  while  rapine  stalks  abroad  like  a  hungry 
wolf !  Not  while  force  unbars  the  virtue  of  your  daugh 
ters!  Not  while  your  wives  are  dishonored  and  are 
ashamed  to  meet  the  glances  of  their  husbands !  Not  while 
your  hearts  are  desolated !  ISTot  while  your  very  souls  are 
ground  down  like  the  stones  in  the  roadway !  Not  while — 
[A  roar  of  vengeance  from  the  mob]  [Cries  of  "TYRANT/' 
"VENGEANCE/'  etc] 

[In  a  new  strain]  Can  you  find  it  in  your  hearts  to 
hate  him  who  would  raise  you  and  yours  to  Freedom's 
Height?  Can  you? 

[Cries  of  No  !  NO  !" ) 

Can  you  hate  the  man  that  will  make  you  MEN  ?  I  can't 
believe  it. 

[An  old  man  steps  out  of  the  crowd]  [He  is  down  left. 
He  says  with  an  air  of  grandeur]  : 

OLD  MAN. 

We  would  bless  and  sanctify  his  name !  We  would  hang 
upon  his  every  word !     We  would — 
[Cries  of  "YES,  YES  !"] 

ROLAND. 

Is  there  one  among  you  who  is  not  a  victim  to  the  ty 
rant's  power?  You  are  silent!  Friends,  I,  too,  have 
been  robbed  of  all  that's  dear  to  me.  In  yonder  castle 
lives  the  woman  I  love — they  thought  to  give  her  to  Count 
Falkenstein  to-night.  Falkenstein  is  no  more.  'Twas  I 
who  killed  him.  But  why  do  I  speak  of  myself,  when  it 
is  for  you,  and  you  only  that  I  should  live ;  perchance  even 
now  your  children  cry  aloud  for  bread;  I  weep  for  them 


112  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

— poor  unconscious  sufferers  !  Weep,  weep  ?  When  others 
smile?  smile  at  our  misfortunes?  No, — why  should  we 
weep?  Eather  make  them  weep. 

OLD  MAN. 

[Solemnly']  It  is  so.  He  speaks  the  truth.  [They 
all  form  a  circle  around  the  old  man.'] 

[Characters  on  the  stage  are  placed  as  follows — They 
form  a  circle  down  left  around  the  old  man.  Also  a  circle 
around  Roland.  Men  between  the  two  parties.'] 

[Continues  quietly  and  with  awe'}  I  had  a  child — my 
only  one.  She  was  the  purest  of  the  pure. 

[To  himself]     Sweet  little  Irene. 

[To  himself,  but  loud  enough  for  the  others  to  hear~\ 
Joyous  and  merry,  with  a  voice  envied  by  the  birds  of  the 
wood,  who,  forest-like,  sang  her  their  songs.  She  was  as 
good  as  she  was  pure — the  pride  of  my  old  heart.  One 
day  they  came — they  saw  her — they — 

Ah!  [Then  covers  his  eyes  as  if  to  hide  a  hideous 
dream]  [He  recovers  himself]  She's  dead.  'Twas  I  that 
saved  her  from  shame ! 

[A  pause.] 

[A  cry  from  the  mob,  as  if  one  voice] 

MOB. 

Death !  Death  to  the  despoilers  of  our  homes !  Death ! 
Death ! 

ROLAND. 

[He  spealcs  after  this  outburst  has  somewhat  spent  it 
self]  [The  words  seemed  to  be  burned  on  his  lips]  Are 
we  still  human  to  endure  this?  Are  we  not  born  in  the 
same  manner?  Was  it  not  the  same  God  that  ordained 
you,  and  you  and  you  [pointing]  as  the  Eoyal  Scion  of 
rare  antiquity? 

[Cries  of  "IT  WAS/'] 

Do  we  not  breathe  the  same  air  as  the  descendant  of  ac 
cumulated  wealth? 

[Cries  of  "WE  DO  !"] 

Then,  why  are  we  not  free  ?  Have  we  not  the  same  lan 
guage — the  same  body  as  he  who  slumbers  under  the  sol 
emn  majesty  of  Imperial  Palace  ? 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  113 

[Cries  of  "EQUALITY/'] 

Is  there  not  some  mysterious  longing — some  burning 
wish — ready  to  waken  into  life — something  that  whispers, 
"Oh,  God,  give  me  liberty  ? 

[Cries  of  "LIBERTY."]'    [Some  cry  "REVENGE."] 

[They  are  ready  to  rush  off  at  Roland's  bidding — a  huge, 
seething  mass  of  humanity  ready  for  any  and  everything.] 

Friends,  listen  to  me — 

[Cries  of  "ROLAND,"  "An !"  etc.] 

[Roland  composed]  Once  I  had  a  dream — a  vision  sub 
lime — the  shadowy  reason  of  my  mind  rose  supremely 
grand !  Oh,  and  what  a  dream  it  was !  I  worship  this 
dream  and  kneel  at  its  altar ! 

Friends,  let  your  minds  march,  as  it  were,  backward 
across  the  ages,  for  years;  then  centuries;  aye — even  gen 
erations;  till  at  last  they  reach  the  fountain-head  of  crea 
tion.  GOD  ALONE  WITH  HIS  WORLD  !  Then  God  thought, 
and  thought  was  passion,  and  passion  is  the  root  of  all 
evil !  A  race  came  into  life — how  or  why  I  know  not.  They 
took  upon  themselves  the  right  of  calling  themselves — 
MEN — !  These  men  were  FREE  !  They  were  as  free  as  the 
air  they  breathed.  It  was  for  them,  as  it  is  with  us,  destiny 
to  serve  in  the  fields  of  suffering  and  of  sorrow !  [His  gaze 
becomes  inspired.] 

[A  detached  thought,  coming  as  it  does  as  a  flight  of  in 
spiration] 

In  the  midnight  when  all  seems  dark  and  dreary .  . 

When  life's  candle  wavers 

There  will  come  a  most  beautiful  music 

That  music  is  The  Music  of  Eternity 

There  will  shine  a  beautiful  light  to  guide  us 

WAIT,  WAIT,  FOR  GOD  is  A  JUST  GOD. 

[lie  stands  as  if  spell-bound  gazing  towards  Heaven.] 

MORDECAI. 

See,  the  Nation's  love  is  mapped  upon  his  face !  The 
rights  of  men  enthroned  upon  his  lips! 

ROLAND. 

[Continuing]  And  when  passion  came,  strife  came  with 
it;  tyrants  were  born  into  the  world.  These  tyrants  sold 


114  ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK. 

their  fellow-beings  into  captivity  and  bondage.  In  their 
turn  likewise,  the  tyrants  were  killed!  Others,  less  bar 
barous,  took  their  places,  and  did  as  those  before  them. 
Blood  flowed,  rivers  of  blood. —  Here  and  there,  some 
martyr  was  born  to  fight  for  the  cause  of  liberty  and  to 
brighten  the  leaves  on  the  pages  of  history.  They,  like 
the  others,  passed  away !  OH,  HOW  I  HAVE  PRAYED  THAT 

I  MIGHT  BE  THAT  MAN  WHO  COULD  MAKE  THE  WORLD  LIKE 

UNTO  A  SINGLE  NATION  !     All  peace,  peace  and  justice ! 

[Approaching  thunder]  [The  rumble  grows  louder] 
[The  people  are  awed  and  silent.'] 

Hear,  my  friends,  this  mighty  element  music !  See,  how 
the  thunder-awakened  air  ruffles  the  naked  beauty  of  the 
sky,  like  waves  of  tyranny  in  a  sea  of  peace ! 

[Loud  peal  of  thunder]  Harken  to  the  voice  of  the 
Giant  Combat! —  Hurl  back  the  stigma  of  shame  from 
the  horizon  of  OUR  sky ! 

[Tremendous  peal]  [The  loudest  of  all]  Hear,  'tis 
Heaven  that  answers  us ! 

[The  mob  has  its  back  to  the  audience]  [They  show 
signs  of  deep  emotion.] 

This  is  not  chance,  my  friends ;  this  is  a  cry,  a  deafening 
cry,  sent  to  you,  from  God !  "Tis  charged  with  all  His 
wrath !  It  is  for  YOU  to  answer  Him. 

[As  if  one  voice,  the  mob  yell,  "REVENGE/'  "ROLAND/' 
"LIBERTY/']  [All  exit  off  right  upper  entrance]  [Ro 
land  and  Mordecai  in  their  midst.] 

[When  the  clamor  has  subsided  there  is  a  pause — the 
doors  of  the  church  open  and  the  light  from  within  streams 
upon  the  scene.  The  dying  cadence  of  a  grand  fugue  is 
heard  as  it  solemnly  melts  into  the  night  air.  Those  who 
were  inside  of  the  church  cross  stage  in  the  form  of  a  pro 
cession  and  exit  through  archway  up  left  third  entrance. 

[Music  continues  in  the  church.] 
CURTAIN. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  115 

SCENE  NO.  2. 

Great  Hall  at  Castle  Drachenfels. 

Wall,  extending  down  right  first  entrance,  up  stage,  for 
a  few  feet.  On  this  watt  armor  hung  picturesquely.  This 
wall  bends  about  45  Deg.  to  the  left,  ending  between  right- 
center  and  right.  It  meets  a  large  alcove,  supposed  to  repre 
sent  the  end  of  a  banquet  hall.  This  alcove  is  between 
right-center  and  center,  back.  In  the  alcove  there  is  a 
long  table.  The  portion  of  this  table  seen  by  the  spec 
tator  is  the  head.  The  dining-room  is  in  Baronial  style. 
It  is  oblong.  From  the  end  of  this  alcove,  the  end  towards 
center,  a  wall  runs  back  in  an  angle  for  a  few  feet  until  it 
reaches  extreme  upper  center.  The  back  of  the  alcove  is 
equal  to  this  point.  The  point  I  have  mentioned  is  exactly 
center.  Main  entrance  from  center  to  left-center.  Two 
small  walls  on  each  side  of  door;  this  door  sinks  back  be 
tween  two  angles  that  diverge  towards  if.  A  wall  from 
lower  left  to  left  first  entrance.  Through  this  wall  there 
is  a  door;  this  is  Uildegunde's  room.  From  left  first  en 
trance  to  upper  left  center  is  a  wall  high  enough  to  sit  on 
with  ease.  From  this  wall  rise  three  arches;  the  middle 
one  is  the  entrance  from  the  balcony  without;  the  other 
two  are  more  ornamental.  They  are  Spanish  in  type,  like 
those  seen  in  Granada.  Throiigh  these  arches  are  seen  the 
clouds  lowering,  still  with  streaks  of  silver.  One  also  sees 
in  the  distance  shadowy  outlines  of  the  Seven  Mountains. 

On  the  ceiling  of  the  room  just  described,  extends  from 
center,  in  direction  of  left  center,  a  large  rafter.  It  is  not 
overly  long.  A  light  hangs  from  it.  Left  center  a  couch. 
Also  around  room  chairs  well  placed. 

The  time  this  scene  commences  is  just  about  wlien  Ro 
land  finishes  in  the  public  place  at  Honnef. 

HILDEGUNDE  discovered  on  couch  left.  BEATRICE  seated 
upon  wall  down  left,  one  nearest  the  audience. 

Curtains  are  drawn  hiding  those  who  are  dining  in  the 
alcove.  The  banquet  spoken  of  in  the  preceding  acts  is 
now  taking  place.  Those  seated  at  the  table  are:  Diet- 
rick,  at  the  head;  Barons  Waldemar  and  Hoffmann  to  the 


116  ROLAND    OF    ROLANDSECK. 

right.  To  the  right  of  these  two  Barons  are  seated  other 
Barons  of  prominence.  We  will  leave  them  for  the  pres 
ent  with  the  curtains  drawn. 

Hildegunde's  face  is  full  of  sweet  melancholy.  Her  right 
elbow  rests  upon  the  end  of  the  couch,  supporting  her  chin. 
Her  face  is  towards  the  audience.  Her  lips  move  slightly, 
fi.<?  if  muttering  to  herself. 

Beatrice  has  her  back  partly  to  the  audience.  Her  face 
is  turned  toward  the  village. 

Stage  dimly  lighted.  Curtain  rises.  Those  on  stage 
hold  their  positions. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Speaking  to  some  unseen  power']  Oh,  give !  Oh,  give 
me  back  my  love ! 

BEATRICE. 

[Who  has  been  listening  to  her,  but  has  been  looking 
towards  the  village']  All  is  quiet  in  the  village. 

[A  drunken  laugh  from  alcove.  Baron  Waldemar, 
freighted  with  a  heavy  weight  of  liquor,  now  draws  aside 
the  curtains  from  the  banquet-hall  and  staggers  upon  the 
stage.  He  endeavors  to  cross  to  Hildegunde,  which  he 
does,  after  some  difficulty.  He  is  followed  by  others  in  the 
same  condition  as  himself.  Dietrick  also  enters  from  the 
same  place  and  stands  behind  the  two  women.  All  of  the 
Barons  carry  goblets  in  their  hands,  except  Dietrick.  Diet- 
rick  preserves  all  his  diplomacy  and  is  as  cool  and  collected 
as  usual.'] 

WALDEMAR. 

Here's  a  health  to  thee!  A  health  to  thee,  gentle  star 
of  love !  May  I  ever  taste  such  wine  as  this,  to  drink  it 
with.  [Looking  at  the  wine]  Splendor  of  the  Rhine;  its 
color  savors  of  your  ruby  lips,  which,  by  the  bye,  I  have 
never  tasted  of.  "Pis  a  healthy  fluid,  lady,  like  the  blood 
of  Venus  in  a  virgin's  veins.  Ha,  ha,  ha,  come  my  lads, 
drink  a  health,  a  health!  Drink,  drink,  to  the  fairest  of 
the  fair! 

ALL. 

[All  drinking]     Hildegunde! 

[Dietrick  watches  everything  like  a  shrewd  diplomat.] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  117 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Rising  and  speaking  with  dignity]  I  do  not  know  what 
to  say,  my  Lords.  Your  sayings  are  strange  to  me.  If, 
by  my  sadness,  I  show  a  tendency  to  mar  your  pleasure, 
forgive  me.  I  have  heard  you  talk  of  valiant  deeds,  of 
breaches,  storms,  and  midnight  rides  that  do  adorn  your 
martial  ensigns,  crowning  a  soldier's  fondest  hope,  and  bid 
a  warlike  world  admire.  To  me,  they  are  conceits,  bub 
bles  in  history's  unfinished  volume.  The  Empire  which  I 
so  dearly  sought  is  lost  to  me  forever.  That  which  for 
all  Eternity  lives  in  a  woman's  heart,  one  true  love !  [She 
finished  this  speech  with  difficulty.'} 

[Dietrich  is  impassive,  as  ever.] 

Save  me  your  gibes,  gentlemen.  They  are  the  mockery 
of  praise.  [With  a  side  glance  at  Dietrick]  The  weak 
are  ever  wont  to  bow  down  to  the  might  of  the  strong. 

[Hoffmann  gallantly  steps  forivard  as  if  to  pay  her  a 
compliment,  but  she,  divining  his  intention,  interrupts  him, 
courteously.] 

I  pray  you,  my  Lord,  keep  your  intended  compliment  for 
some  other  woman.  Do  not  think  me  ungrateful;  others, 
I  know,  will  feel  the  prouder  for  even  one  tender  word 
from  a  man  so  highly  esteemed  as  yourself. 

[He  is  pleased  and  mingles  among  the  other  Barons'] 
[The  Barons  are  grouped  in  front  of  alcove,  to  down  right. 
They  form  into  a  circle  and  mumble  together.  Foremost 
among  those  who  do  the  talking  are  Barons  Hoffmann  and 
Waldemar.  One  hears  such  expressions  as  these — "WE'LL 
TELL.  A  SHAME,  etc.,"  They  are  aware  of  the  trick  Diet- 
rick  is  playing  upon  his  daughter  to  get  her  consent  to 
marry  Count  Falkenstein.  Hildegunde  and  Beatrice  are 
down  left,  as  before.  Dietrick  stands  left  center,  intently 
watching  the  Barons.] 

DIETRICK. 

[Speaking  loftily,  with  a  touch  of  superiority]  I  pray 
you,  dear  gentlemen,  give  me  your  attention.  From  friends, 
'tis  my  custom  to  have  no  secrets.  You  are  all  aware,  no 


118  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

doubt,  of  the  unrest  of  our  land;  the  grumbling  masses 
over  whom  it  is  for  us  to  rule.  It  would  be  unwise,  gen 
tlemen,  to  underrate  their  power,  that  is,  if  that  power  rose 
against  us.  Beport  has  it,  that  even  now  they  tug  at  the 
chains  which  bind  them  to  us.  They  lack  only — the  last 
link — a  leader !  [ The  Barons  here  give  all  their  atten 
tion.] 

Gentlemen,  it  is  only  the  fear  of  our  ancient  names  and 
the  dread  of  our  punishments  that  make  them  still  fear  us. 
With  it  all,  my  friends,  we  live  in  glass  houses  and  wear 
masks,  and  under  the  masks  there  are  faces  pale  and  trem 
bling.  If  they  only  knew  these  things,  our  glass  houses 
would  tumble  about  us  and  bury  us  in  their  ruins !  It  is 
for  this,  gentlemen,  I  have  brought  you  together.  It  has 
been  my  plan  to  join  us  all  in  a  sort  of  League — to  take 
action  against  those  who  could  do  us  ought  of  harm. 
[There  is  a  murmur  of  assent]  We  are  all  here — all  ex 
cept  Count  Palkenstein.  This  gallant  knight  I  have 
chosen  to  be  the  husband  of  my  daughter.  Gentlemen,  I 
beg  of  you  to  drink  with  me  his  good  health.  Falkenstein ! 
[Lifting  his  glass.] 

ALL  THE  BARONS. 

FALKENSTEIN-  ! 

[The  positions  of  those  on  the  stage  are  as  follows — 
Hildegunde  and  Beatrice  down  left.  Barons  down  right. 
Dietrick  center — towards  right.  They  are  just  in  the  act 
of  drinking  when  shouts  are  heard  from  wiihoui,  also 
rapid  firing  and  the  clash  of  swords.  Roland's  men  and 
those  inflamed  townspeople  who  have  followed  him,  are 
shouting  wildly — "DEATH,  DEATH,  LIBERTY,  BOLAND, 
etc."  The  Barons,  hearing  these  fierce  cries,  huddle  them 
selves  together  with  blanched  faces.  Dietrick  draws  his 
sword  and  yells  passionately  at  the  Barons.] 

DIETRICK. 

You  cowards,  why  don't  you  draw  your  swords  and  fight 
for  j^our  own  land ?  [With  contempt]  Cowards! 

[Enter  Roland,  door  left  center.  He  stands  in  the  door 
way  with  his  men  behind  him.  He  holds  Dietrich's  eye. 
There  is  a  picture.  The  picture  is  broken  by  a  shout  of 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  119 

"LovE,"  "LIBERTY/'  etc.,  from  a  band  of  men  under  Mor- 
decai,  who  have  scaled  the  wall  of  the  colonade.  Morde 
cai  stands  in  center  arch,  his  men  around  him.'} 

[A  pause.'] 

ROLAND. 

[Quietly  to  the  Barons]  Gentlemen,  have  the  goodness 
to  put  up  your  swords.  [Barons  comply.'] 

I  am  master  here.  [A  shout  from  Roland's  men  both  on 
and  off  stage.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[She  has  felt  all  the  passions  of  the  foregoing  scene.  She 
now  moves  slowly  up  stage  to  where  Roland  is  and  holds 
out  her  hands  to  him,  with  a  look  of  speechless  happiness 
on  her  face,  and  says  to  him,,  as  if  he  were  her  God]  :  Ro 
land — love — liberty  ! 

[A  pause.\ 

[Then,  as  if  drawn  by  an  unconscious  impulse,  they 
slowly  come  together  and  embrace.] 

ROLAND. 

Thank  Heaven,  that  you  are  safe.  For  this  I  am  satis 
fied ! 

[Turns  to  Alonso]  Alonso,  I  have  given  you  your  in 
structions  regarding  the  prisoners.  Do  your  duty. 

ALONSO. 

I  will,  my  Lord !  [Pie  salutes]  [After  salute  turns  to 
men,  who,  having  already  had  their  instructions,  surround 
the  Barons,  and  Alonso  gives  a  sign  to  men  to  march. 
Alonso' s  men  quickly  leave  the  stage  with  prisoners.] 

ROLAND. 

[To  Mordecai — who  has  still  remained]  Will  you  see 
that  all  is  safe,  Mordecai? 

MORDECAI. 

I  will,  my  Lord.  But  ere  I  go,  my  Lord,  may  I  take 
the  liberty  to  ask  if  your  heart  is  safe  in  such — fair — com 
pany?  [He  smiles.] 


120      .  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

ROLAND. 

[Returning  smile]  It  is  safe,  [he  looks  at  Mordecai] 
Mordecai.  [As  he  says  the  name  "Mordecai"  he  looks  at 
Hildegunde.] 

MORDECAI. 

Would  that  mine  were  safe  also.  [Looking  at  l)oth 
women.'] 

BEATRICE. 

You  flatter  us. 

MORDECAI. 

[Bowing  severally]  Ladies,  my  Lord,  I  take  my  leave. 
[Exit  Mordecai.'] 

ROLAND. 

[As  if  to  himself]     Fine  fellow ! 

[Gradually  all  traces  of  a  storm  disappear.  The  clouds 
fade  away,  and  the  rays  of  the  moon  break  through  the 
clouds  and  cast  a  soft  and  mellow  light  upon  the  colonade 
and  arches,  which  also  streams  into  the  old  hall.] 

[Roland,  Hildegunde  and  Beatrice  on  the  scene.] 

BEATRICE. 

Hildegunde' s  father  said  that  you  were  his  prisoner. 

[Roland  has  been  in  a  sort  of  reverie  from  which  Beat 
rice's  words  awaken  him.] 

ROLAND. 

Said,  what? 

BEATRICE. 

That  you  were  his  prisoner,  and  he  also  said  that  if 
Hildegunde  would  marry  Count  Falken stein,  he  would  give 
to  you  your  liberty. 

ROLAND. 

So?    But  Hildegunde — what — what — did — you — do? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

I — promised — to — marry — him — and  th en — 

ROLAND. 

Then? 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  121 

BEATRICE. 

After  you  had  your  liberty,  she  would  have  become  the 

BRIDE  OF  DEATH. 

ROLAND. 

[Taken  aback']  You  would  have  done  this  for  me, 
Hildegunde  ? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Simply']     Yes. 

ROLAND. 

Bless  you.     [They  embrace  unaffectedly.] 

[Beatrice  slips  out  unnoticed,  leaving  the  lovers  alone] 
[They  are  so  wrapt  up  in  each  other  they  don'i  heed  Beat 
rice's  departure]  [He  takes  Hildegunde  by  the  hand  and 
leads  her  to  the  colonade.  She  seats  herself  on  the  first 
arch  down  left,  with  her  back  partly  turned  to  the 
audience.  She  has  a  contented,  happy  look  upon  her  face. 
He  stands  beside  her,  lost  in  thought.  The  moonlight 
plays  upon  them.] 

[Breaking  the  silence]  It's  a  strange  world  that  we  live 
in,  Hildegunde, — isn't  it?  [She  nods  her  head  in  assent.] 

Not  long  ago  I  came  into  this  castle,  almost  as  a  thief; 
and  to-night  I  am  its  master.  [He  moves  away  a  few  steps 
from  Hildegunde  and  says  almost  to  himself:  Even  in 
my  wildest  dreams,  I  never  dreamt  that  I  would  be  master 
here!  Alas,  am  I  only  a —  (He  would  have  finished 
this  sentence  with  the  word  "DREAMER.") 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[She  has  not  been  looking  at  him,  or  hearing  what  he 
has  said,  as  she,  too,  has  been  dreaming.]  [The  word — 
"ROLAND"  escapes  from  her  lips  unconsciously.] 

ROLAND. 

[With  a  start,  as  she  has  broken  his  dream]  Was  it  you 
who  spoke  my  name? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Looking  at  him,  her  very  soul  in  her  eyes]  Come  into 
— the  moonlight ! 


122  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

ROLAND. 

[He  gazes  at  her  tvith  intoxicated  eyes]  How — how — 
beautiful — you  are  ! 

[Hildegunde,  under  the  spell  of  Roland's  gaze,  gives  an 
unconscious  nervous  movement,  as  if  uneasy.] 

Nay,  do  not  move,  Hildegunde,  but  stay  in  the  moon 
light.  [He  sits  facing  her.  He  takes  a  deep  breath,  full 
of  the  joy  of  life]  How — happy — I — ought — to — be! 
[There  is  a  silence  between  them]  [Roland  bends  over, 
very  close  to  her]  Would  that  we  could  die  now;  die  to 
gether.  [They  look  each  other  in  the  eye]  [Hildegunde 

sighs AH  ! ]  [By  some  great  impulse  they  are 

drawn  together,  their  lips  meet,  in  one  long  kiss;  simply 
and  with  deep  feeling.] 

[A  pause — the  silence  of  true  love.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Womanlike,  she  is  the  first  to  control  herself,  and  leads 
the  way  to  the  future]  What  will  you  do  Eoland,  now 
that  you  have  conquered? 

ROLAND. 

[His  mind  is  filled  with  so  many  conflicting  emotions 
that  he  stares  into  vacancy,  as  if  without  a  thought]  What 
will  I  do?  [Gives  a  foolish  little  laugh,  almost  inaudibly. 
He  then  turns  to  her,  and  his  face  brightens  up]  Let  us 
speak  of  other  things — of  ourselves.  Come  near — nearer 
to  me,  Hildegunde.  That's  it.  I  want  to  feel  your  pres 
ence  !  [She  laughs,  peculiarly.  Roland  is  a  trifle  hurt] 
Why  do  you  laugh? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Did  I  ?  I'm  so  sorry.  [Seriously]  I  was  thinking  of 
my  father ! 

ROLAND. 

Of — your — father?  [Pauses]  Then  looks  at  her 
quickly,  as  if  he  would  like  to  read'  her  innermost  thoughts] 
I,  7  am  here;  and  I,  7  LOVE  YOU. 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  123 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Simply — forgetting  everything  but  him]  And — I — 
love — you. 

]They  take  each  other's  hands  and  look  into  each  other's 
eyes — spellbound.] 

ROLAND. 

[Breaks  the  spell]  Oh!  how  this  love  intoxicates  me! 
Makes  me  drunk  with  happiness. 

[He  looks  at  her  and  notes  a  sadness  which  has  passed 
over  her]  Why — why — are  you  so  sad,  Hildegunde  ?  Why 
— so — sad? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Peculiarly]     I — was — looking — in — your — face. 

[A  short  pause] 

[Slowly  and  with  deliberation]     It — is — the — face — of 

a  DREAMER  ! 

ROLAND. 

[The  word  "DREAMER"  causes  him  to  start  slightly] 
[This  has  been  a  thought  that  has  ever  occurred  to  him. 
One  that  he  has  been  afraid  to  acknowledge  even  to  him 
self,  lie  forgets  everything  and  looks  into  something  out 
side  of  the  world.] 

[To  himself]  And  are  they  only — dreams,  after  all? 
Those  GLORIOUS  thoughts  that  sit  so  heavy  upon  my  soul  ? 
Dreams — only — dreams  ? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Instinct  telling  her  that  something  is  wrong]  Roland! 
What's  the  matter? 

ROLAND. 

[His  eyes  have  a  wild  look;  he  rises;  his  right  hand  goes 
to  his  head,  as  if  he  would  stop  the  throbbing  of  his  brain, 
and  his  breath  comes  with  difficulty]  Nothing!  Noth 
ing! 

[He  turns  to  her  quickly]  It's — your — your  eyes.  They 
— they — 

[Turns  from  her  and  again  quickly  puts  his  hand  to  his 
head]No,  no,  [TO  BE  SAID  QUICKLY]  it's  nothing,  nothing 


124  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

— only — this — pain — in — my — head!  [TO  BE  SAID  SLOW 
LY]  Oh !  God !  it — can't — be  that — I  am — that  I  am  [cry 
and  a  look  of  anguish]  Oh !  God !  no,  no,  no,  not  now, — 
not  now  [Staggers  and  is  about  to  fall.'} 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Trying  to  support  him]     Ro — land !     Ro — land ! 

ROLAND. 

Fm  better  now.  Thanks!  It  was  nothing!  Only,  so 
strange — as  if  the  sea  drew  me  down — till — till  the  end. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Sympathetically]     Calm  yourself ! 

ROLAND. 

I  am  calm.  [Falls  into  a  reverie]  And  yet  I  was  think 
ing,  that  all  men — who  ARE  men — those  who  raise  them 
selves  by  their  own  efforts,  to  rule  their  fellows,  always  per 
ish  before  they  have  done  what  they  set  out  to  do.  There 
was  the  great  Caesar,  hewed  down  in  the  height  of  his 
glory,  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin — and  why  ?  Because  he 
craved  the  empty  title  of  a  King ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Trying  to  rouse  him  from  his  dreams]     Roland ! 

ROLAND. 

[As  before]  There  was  Cyrus,  over  whose  tomb  the 
traveler  reads,  "I  am  Cyrus,  the  King,  the  Akharmenian." 

[Roland  laughs  peculiarly]  "Cyrus,  the  King!"  Ro 
land — the —  [Laughs  again  strangely]  And  how  did 
Cyrus  die?  In  some  insignificant  brawl  on  his  own  fron 
tiers  ;  perhaps  stabbed  by  the  hand  of  a  drunken  soldier. 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[Trying  to  rouse  him  as  before]     Roland ! 

ROLAND. 

[As  before]  And  Alexander,  greatest  of  them  all;  in 
the  hey-day  of  his  conquering  fame,  seized  upon  by  a— a 
fever.  What  a  miserable  end  for  genius ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAXDSECK.  125 

HILDEGUNDE. 

But  what  has  this  to  do  with  you,  dear? 

ROLAND. 

[He  pauses,  looks  at  her,  and  says']  :  Nothing,  but  that 
I,  too,  have  dared  to  wing  my  flight  into  some  great  climax 
in  world  progress,  and  that  now — I've  reached  the  end ! 

[Puts  his  hand  to  his  head~\  My  brain 1  dread  my 

brain !  [He  laughs  that  little  strange  laugh  again.] 

[There  is  something  in  this  laugh  as  if  lie  were  laughing 
at  himself.'] 

[Changes  his  mood  and  tone]  But  see,  the  clouds  are 
passing;  the  moonlight  will  soon  die  away.  Is  it  late,  do 
you  think? 

HILDEGUNDE. 

Yes.     I  must  go  to  my  room. 

[A  silence]  Good-night.  [She  extends  her  hand,  which 
he  takes]  I'll  dream  of  you  to-night. 

ROLAND. 
]In  the  same  tone  as  used  ~by  her]     And  I,  of  you ! 

HILDEGUNDE. 

[After  having  gone  to  her  door  she  now  returns]  No 
more  dreads,  Roland.  You  must  not  be  so  foolish.  The 
main  thing  you  need  is  rest ;  but  where  will  you — 

ROLAND. 

[Interrupts]    Here  on  this  couch. — Kiss ! 

[They  kiss  and  stand  silently  as  if  enraptured — then 
she,  with  a  deep  passionate  sigh,  releases  herself  from  his 
embrace,  and  glides  quickly  and  gracefully  to  the  door  of 
her  room — as  if  she  were  afraid  to  stay  any  longer.  When 
at  the  door  she  turns,  gracefully  throws  him  a  kiss,  and 
with  a  smile,  she  exits.] 

[During  this,  Roland  has  stood  immovable,  as  if  fas 
cinated.  His  breast  is  heaving  and  his  eyes  follow  her 
every  movement.  After  a  little  time  he  walks  over  to  the 
couch  and  sinks  down  upon  it  exhausted.  He  looks  at  the 
door  of  Hildegunde's  room,  and  his  eyes  as  much  as  say  he 


126  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

wished  he  were  on  the  other  side  of  it.  He  laughs  again 
that  peculiar  laugh,  stretches  himself  out  on  the  couch  and 
goes  to  sleep.  As  soon  as  his  head  touches  the  pillow  the 
stage  becomes  entirely  dark.  Mysterious  and  weird  music 
in  the  orchestra,  ivith  wild  chords,  etc.  After  a  little 
while,,  Roland  is  heard  moaning  in  his  sleep.  A  calcium 
light  is  thrown  upon  him.  His  face  is  pale  and  terror- 
stricken.  He  emits  inarticulate  sounds,  as  if  trying  to 
throw  off  some  horrible  thing  that  has  fastened  itself  on 
his  mind.  A  mysterious  voice  in  an  awe-inspiring  tone 
is  heard  to  say,  in  very  slow  and  labored  accents : 

VOICE. 
Roland — thy — time — has — come ! 

ROLAND. 

[Roland,  in  his  sleep,  writhes  and  murmurs  hoarsely] 
No,  no,  not  now — NOT  NOW  ! 

(This  voice  is  part  of  Roland's  madness.  It  is  supposed 
to  come  from  his  brain,  but  I  have  made  it  audible  so  as 
to  give  it  definiteness.) 

VOICE. 
[More  emphatic]     Eoland — thy — time — has — come  ! 

[Roland  rises  from  his  couch  under  great  emotion]  [He 
is  haggard  and  has  a  mad  look  in  his  eyes.  He  speaks  to 
the  voice  as  if  trying  to  sway  it  by  his  passionate  appeal.] 

ROLAND. 

[Hoarsely]  I  ask  not  for  mercy — I  beg  but  for  her — 
the  woman  I  love.  ' Twill  kill  her  to  see  my  face  set  in 
the  cold,  metallic  mask  of  death.  [Continues  wildly]  Oh ! 
let  me  fight — every  Baron  in  the  land — one  by  one,  till  I 
fall  from  wounds,  loss  of  blood  or  exhaustion.  [Rolo,nd 
drains  his  sword]  Where  are  my  foes — where  are  they? 
Where  are  they,  I  say  ?  [He  gives  a  mocking  laugh  at  some 
imaginary  adversary]  Ha !  Ha !  Ha ! 

[NOTE — He  sees  all  those  to  whom  he  speaks  and  acts 
as  if  he  really  were  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  foes]  Cow 
ard — I  took  thee  for  a  man !  [Bowing  haughtily]  I  beg 
your  pardon  for  the  error ! 


ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK.  127 

[As  if  addressing  all]  Well,  will  none  of  you  fight!  ! 
Gentlemen,  'tis  sweet  music,  steel  to  steel. 

You  there  [pointing]  in  the  scarlet  cloak — I  challenge 
you!  !  No?  [Advancing  to  him]  Must  I  beg  you?  You 
are  afraid  !  Ha  !  afraid — a  man  afraid !  [H  e  laughs  as 
if  it  were  a  joke  and  goes  up  to  imaginary  person  in  a 
tragical,  yet  comical  manner,  as  if  to  tease  him  into  anger] 
Come — child — let  me  coax  you.  Ah  !  [Disgusted]  Well, 
cowards,  is  there  none  of  you  who  has  the  courage  of  a 
man? 

[After  Roland  has  said  this,  there  is  a  moment's  silence, 
and  then  a  weak,  yet  manly  voice  is  heard  to  say]  : 

VOICE. 

I — love — to — fight — the  boldest — Knight, 
And — if — 'tis — my — luck — to — die ; 

I — know — I — fall — before — the — right — 
An — honored — death — I — die. 

ROLAND. 

[Roland  stares  at  the  person,  who  is  supposed  to  speak. 
He  is  overcome  by  this  display  of  chivalry]  [Bowing 
gravely]  My  compliments !  [He  salutes  with  his  sword] 
[Places  himself  on  guard — and  sees  his  adversary  before 
him.  He  parries,  advances,  retreats,  and  speaks  to  his  op 
ponent,  like  a  fencer  whose  blood  is  up.] 

Hear  the  clashing  of  the  swords.  Ah !  Once,  twice, 
thrice  quick  as  a  flash !  [Roland  lunges,  hews  and  hacks 

breathlessly,  then  with  an  exultant "An/" runs  his 

adversary  through]  [He  stands  over  him  in  a  breathless 
and  triumphant  attitude]  He's  mine — mine!  Ah! 
[Laughs  triumphantly.] 

[All  of  a  sudden  his  sword  falls  from  his  nerveless  hand. 
His  eyes  become  almost  idiotic  and  his  hands  go  to  1>is 
head  in  abject  terror]  Great  God !  I'm  mad — mad — mad  ! 
[He  staggers,  almost  fainting  to  the  door  of  Hildegunde's 
room]  [He  shouts]  :  Help — I'm  mad — mad !  [He  beats 
frantically  on  the  door,  and  receiving  no  answer,  he  rushes 
wildly  up  to  door,  upper-left-center,  opens  it,  and  shouts 
down  the  passageway]  :  Help  !  Help  !  [He  gets  wealer 
and  weaker  and  totters  down  center  just  as  the  noise  of  ap- 


128  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

proaching  footsteps  is  heard  without.  As  he  is  about  to 
fall  backwards,  his  men  enter  from  upper  left  center  doer, 
and  some  also  rush  in  along  colonade.  They  are  very 
much  surprised  and  show  it.  Some  say — "WHAT'S  THE 
MATTER?"  others  "WHAT'S  HAPPENED?" 

[Hildegunde  appears  at  the  door  of  her  apartment.  She 
holds  in  her  right  hand  a  light.  She  is  robed  in  a  loose 
white  garment.  Her  hair  flowing.  Her  face  has  a  star 
tled  expression.  She  murmurs  with  the  rest — "WHAT  HAS 
HAPPENED?"  As  no  one  seems  to  know,  she  looks  from 
face  to  face,  and  not  receiving  an  answer,  she  sees  Roland 
in  the  midst  of  the  men,  and  with  a  little  "An !"  she  goes 
up  to  him,  with  mute  inquiry.] 

HILDEGUNDE. 

What  has  happened?  [Roland  stares  blankly  a,t  her~\ 
^Hildegunde  takes  in  Roland's  condition  at  a  glance  and 
says :  Roland ! 

[Roland  looks  blankly  from  one  to  the  other.  He  laughs 
idiotically. 1 

[Hildegunde  turns  away  in  horror.] 

He's  mad — mad.     [She  breaks  down  and  sobs  silently.'] 

[All  present  gaze  at  Roland  pitifully.  There  is  a  pause, 
during  which  he  scans  each  face.  He  stares  at  each  one 
separately.  Reason  returns  to  him  for  a  moment  and  he 
reads  in  their  faces  what  they  are  afraid  to  say.  Sudden 
ly  he  breaks  out.] 

ROLAND. 

No,  no.  It  can't  be  true !  It's  not  true !  It's  a  lie — 
A  LIE — A  LIE — A  LIE.  [Mental  agony  convulses  him  physi 
cally]  [They  all  advance  as  if  to  support  him,  but  he 
waves  them  aside,  and  after  a  manful  struggle  conquers 
the  pain,  and  stands  limp  and  submissive.] 


fie  pain, 
[Quiet 


tly]     I'm  dying. 

MORDECAI. 

No,  Roland,  you've  long  to  live  yet. 

ROLAND. 

I  have  seen  the  sun  set  for  the  last  time. 
[A  pause.] 


ROLAND    OF   ROLAND8ECK.  129 

[A  far-away  look-  comes  into  his  eyes  and  he  speaks  feel 
ingly.]  My  friends,  I  want  you  to  let  my  remains  repose 
on  the  banks  of  the  river  I  loved  so  well. 

[He  turns  to  the  moonlight  and  speaks  to  it]  Oh,  love 
ly  night,  take  to  your  bosom  the  soul  of  a  soldier.  Take, 
oh  !  take  a  fevered  spirit. 

[He  is  near  Hildegunde  now.  She  takes  his  hand  and 
fondles  it,  falling  on  her  knees.  He  addresses  her  with  in 
tensity']  I  loved  you  better  than  my  hope  of  Heaven,  but, 
darling,  'twas  not  to  be ! 

[He  forces  himself  away  from  her  and  with  a  choking 
sensation  addresses  his  friends]  Farewell,  dear  friends, 
my  last  fare —  [Just  as  he  is  about  to  say  the  second 
"farewell"  all  of  his  vitality  leaves  him,  and  he  pulls  him 
self  together  with  a  great  effort.]  [He  stands  in  the  mid 
dle  of  them  all  and  draws  himself  up  to  his  full  height]  Let 
me  hear  the  roll  of  drums .... 

[There  is  a  pause.] 
[Roll  of  drums  is  heard.] 

Louder !     Louder  !     [Increase  of  sound.] 

Let  the  bugles  sound  the  "charge."  [After  a  slight  pause 
bugles  are  heard]  [Roland's  face  brightens  at  the  sound. 
His  men  partake  of  his  spirit]  Tell  me  what  we  love? 

ALL. 
[Wildly]    FREEDOM!   FREEDOM!! 

ROLAND. 

[As  they  are  shouting  he  goes  amongst  them.  He  is 
slowly  dying,  and  as  he  dies  he  shouts  to  them :  LOUDER, 

LOUDER ! 

[All  the  while  he  is  doing  this  he  is  laughing  like  a 
maniac.  They  think  that  he  is  his  old  self  again.  His 
laugh  loses  its  strength,  and  their  cries  increase  in  volume. 
He  totters  and  looks  once  again  at  Hildegunde.] 


130  ROLAND    OF   ROLANDSECK. 

[Hildegunde  has  her  head  resting  on  the  couch,  down 
left.  She  has  tried  to  shut  out  the  sound,  knowing  that 
Roland  is  dying  all  the  while  that  they  have  been  shouting. 
He  staggers  once  again — on  his  face  is  the  mad  exultation 
of  battle.  He  falls  back — dead!  As  he  dies  they  are  still 
shouting.] 

CUKTAIN. 


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